


Miraculous Repentences

by beneathawesternsky



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-10-14 16:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17512217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beneathawesternsky/pseuds/beneathawesternsky
Summary: Joanna Beach has graduated from Oxford with a degree in History, to her father's pride. But Joanna's dream is to become a singer-- exactly what Jim Beach, the manager of Queen, doesn't want for his daughter. Brian May is in the beginning of his divorce from his wife, and he struggles with the consequences of his actions, and struggles to find his new normal. He finds a new project in Joanna Beach, taking it upon himself to mentor and manage her budding career. Can he keep his feelings for her from interfering with their working relationship? Will their age gap keep them from happiness?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all. I have set this fic in 1986. I know that Brian's divorce came much later, but for the purposes of the story, I'm setting it earlier, and I'm imagining that Brian is single in his separation from his wife. Please forgive me for rewriting history a little!

The bag over her shoulder hung heavily, and she gratefully let it fall to the marble floor of her childhood home. She groaned in relief and gave her shoulder a roll. She hadn’t meant to wait so long to do laundry at school, but Joanna Beach’s final exams had gotten the best of her. She only hoped the housekeepers (and her parents) didn’t ask why she had _so many_ of her clothes with her. She wasn’t ready for that conversation yet.

“Mum, dad,” Joanna called, walking through the vast entryway to the back of the house, where she expected to find more activity. “I’m home!”

“That you, Jo?” she heard her dad’s voice.

“Yeah,” Joanna said, turning the corner, and finding her dad at the kitchen table, writing on a notepad, with the phone cradled in his shoulder.

Joanna waited patiently while her dad wrote, intermittently acknowledging what was being said on the other end with a casual “mhmm” or “yes”.

“Alright. House is open. Want it set up by five,” he said, and hung up the phone unceremoniously.

“Hey dad,” Joanna said, looking at her dad with a probing look. “What’s going on?”

Jim sighed, and approached his daughter, giving her a distracted hug.

“Release party,” he said. “For the album. You’d know if you ever answered your phone,” he said, in feigned frustration.

“Sorry,” she said, tucking her auburn hair behind her ear demurely. “Exams were hell.”

Jim nodded. “And how did they go?”

“Alright,” Joanna said, chewing on her lip. “We’ll see in a few weeks.”

“Uh huh,” Jim said, shuffling papers. “Given any thought to what we talked about?”

Joanna gave a half smile. It was all she could manage. “Yeah. Dad I— ” She began, but was cut off when a caravan of vehicles pulled into the service entry driveway out back.

“Ah, that’ll be the caterers,” he said. He kissed his daughter’s forehead, and pulled back, giving her a parting look. “I’ve got to get all this sorted in time for tonight. Your room’s how you left it. Everyone’s over at seven. Be ready by then?”

Joanna sighed. “Yeah,” she said, nodding. At that, her father, the perpetually-busy Jim Beach, shuffled off and met the caterers out back. Joanna watched for a moment before she went back to the large bag she had dropped at the bottom of the grand staircase. She hauled it back to the laundry room just off the kitchen, and dumped the lot of it in the wash. She looked at the wall clock, and figured that four hours was enough time to finish it all before the party. Not that anything in her bag would’ve been suitable for an album release party. She knew that when she got to her bedroom, her mother would have at least four “suitable” options hanging in her closet for her. Her stomach dropped at the thought.

A few years ago, it had been a big deal for her to be allowed to attend the Queen parties—not “the” Queen parties that included drugs, sex and lord knew what else (her father would never hear of that), but the “official” ones thrown by the record company. But now, it just felt different. Maybe it was that it highlighted the sting of Jim Beach being an absent, but still loving father, devoted to the band he managed, but leaving his family for long stretches of time.

And maybe it was like looking into the future, now that Joanna had made her mind up about her career. She wondered how her father would take it. Would he want that life for her? Would he _let_ her have that life? She couldn’t see her father banning all his record producing peers from signing her, but something inside her made her question that.

Pushing the thought from her mind, Joanna made her way up to her bedroom, and heavily she walked into her closet. Sure enough, she found three cocktail dresses that her mother had picked out for her, each with a note hanging from the hanger.

“I like this one best,” one note said, and with defiance, Joanna forcefully slid it down the rack, looking only at the other two—a turquoise, sleeveless number, and a black, velvet dress with long sleeves, a short hem, and a low back.

Joanna blinked and grabbed the black dress, laying it out on her bed. As she looked at it, she wondered why she was filled with such sorrow at being dressed up like a doll… she wanted that life, didn’t she? She wanted the musician’s life. But did it have to include losing her identity?

She looked at herself in her floor length mirror and considered her flowing, white dress. Stevie Nicks would have approved, she thought with a smirk. But her mother most certainly did not approve of her bohemian look. Her mother called it “the crusty hippy” look. The thought made her laugh, and at that the spell was broken.

At the end of the day, they were her parents, and whose parents approved of everything they did? Joanna knew that they would come to understand eventually. It would be hard at first. But they would get there.

* * *

“Chrissie, please,” Brian pleaded, holding the phone to his ear, his other fist balled up against the wall. 

“No, Brian,” Brian’s estranged wife said across the other end, “you’ll see them _when we agreed you would see them_. If you keep coming to the house whenever you please, it confuses them. They have to get used to a new normal.”

“ _But they’re my kids too_ , Chris,” Brian said, his voice tone rising.

“I’m not saying they’re not, Brian,” Chrissie said quietly.

Brian breathed shakily, fighting tears. “I didn’t want it to be like this, Christine,” he said, and finally two silent tears fell from his eyes.

Silence on the other end.

“You should have thought of that sooner,” Chrissie said finally, and left the weight of it hanging there. “I’ve gotta go. We’ll see you next weekend.”

Before Brian could say goodbye, Chrissie hung the phone up, and left Brian alone on the other end. He slowly put the phone down on the receiver, and looked around at his new apartment.

The furnishings were all new. The place seemed so sterile. Hardly a place he would want to bring his young children. Their rooms had been made up, but they hadn’t had a single night in them to start making them theirs.

When Brian thought of how he had gotten to this place, his heart sank. Years of recording, touring, and repeating the process had weakened his marriage to Christine. They had never been quite as in love as John and Veronica, but they were happy. John and Veronica showed no signs of slowing down in growing their own family (they were at four children and counting). And here was Brian, reaping the rewards of his misdeeds.

If only he could take back the last year of his life. If only he could undo what he did. But he had done it, and the guilt had eaten at him until he had to tell Chrissie. He loved her too much to keep it from her. Which felt so ironic that it hurt.

The worst part of it was, it didn’t mean anything. It could have been anyone. He wasn’t in love, and the woman he had been with wasn’t in the picture anymore. But you can’t unring a bell. And he supposed this was what he deserved.

He sat on his white leather couch, and the rational part of his brain told him that if he hadn’t have cheated on Chrissie, their marriage would still have fallen apart. But he regretted more than anything how it had happened.

So here he was, alone, in a new and soulless home, without the sound of his children’s laughter, or the gentle hum of his wife’s voice. He tried to picture his new normal, but he couldn’t. What could his life possibly become at the age of thirty-nine? He and Rog were in good company—he and Dominique were on the outs currently, and no one knew if they would be getting back together. Signs pointed to “not for much longer”.

Was this the fate of all aging rock stars?

Before he had too long to think about it, he looked at his watch, and saw that it was already six o’clock. The release party would be starting in an hour, leaving him with enough time to get into the country and maybe only be thirty minutes late to his own party. He thought with a chuckle that even then, he still wouldn’t be the last band member to arrive. That honor was usually reserved for Freddie, but since Fred had ditched his entourage of drainers and users, he had improved in that respect.

He quickly plucked the cleanest, nicest looking clothes hanging in his sparse closet, and changed to what he would qualify as “adequate”. He left his apartment, and jumped into his Volvo, speeding off to Jim’s country home, hoping the night would pass quickly.

* * *

Joanna sat precariously in her formfitting dress, ready for Queen’s guests to start arriving, on her bed, her guitar propped on her lap. She strummed out a few chords absentmindedly, looking out at her room. She had stripped it of most of the signs of her childhood—it had felt weird to come back to a room covered in posters and magazine clippings. But it didn’t feel like hers anymore then. Just a place her mother had sterilized of all signs of teenaged angst when Joanna gave her the go-ahead. Claudia Beach had done so almost gleefully. Her daughter’s transition into womanhood had been something she had relished. She’d tried at every turn to mold her into her own image, and Joanna thought absently as she looked at herself in her dresser mirror that she might have succeeded. 

She plucked a few strings on her acoustic guitar, and hardly noticed when her mother came into her doorway.

“Joanna,” Claudia called, a second time. Joanna stopped playing, and looked up at her mother. She could see the look on her face, going from her appearance to the guitar. Claudia sighed.

“Put those heels back on, and come greet our guests,” Claudia said, unceremoniously grabbing Joanna’s guitar from her, and placed it carelessly on her bed. Joanna huffed and shot her mother a look.

“Yes, mummy dearest,” Joanna said, sliding her feet into her black heels and standing.

“You look so pretty when you don’t slouch,” Claudia said, rolling her daughter’s shoulders back. “It’s that bloody guitar, it makes you hunch over like Quasimodo…”

Joanna bit her tongue, and left her room before she could allow herself to say anything to her mother that might get her in trouble with her father. She reached the top of the grand staircase, and finally heard the din of the party that had been underway for about an hour.

She held onto the railing as she clacked down the marble stairs. She still never felt quite stable in heels, despite her mother’s insistence she wear them so often. By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, her smile was successfully plastered on, and she grabbed two flutes of champagne from the first passing waiter she saw. She drank the first in one go, placing it back on the tray, and drank modestly from the second. She was going to need all the anesthesia she could manage tonight.

She entered the palatial living room with its three large couches spread generously throughout the room. She scanned the faces there at her house, and recognized a few already. Record executives. People from Roger’s entourage, Freddie’s entourage, and she saw John and Veronica in the corner talking with… Joanna’s eyes widened. Sean Connery.

Joanna hadn’t always been accustomed to this kind of lifestyle. Since becoming Queen’s manager, her father had undergone a serious pay increase, and it showed. She had to shake herself and remind herself that Queen had written several songs for Sean Connery’s new movie (what was it called again?).

As she watched John and Sean talk and laugh, she hadn’t noticed as someone sidled up beside her, and pressed a drink in her hand, taking her now empty champagne glass from the other.

“You looked a little empty there,” a voice said, and she had to hide her surprise when she saw it was Roger Taylor. He took that moment to look her up and down before looking back into her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, and accepted the drink. She sipped at it, and it was noticeably stronger than the champagne she had been drinking a moment before. Her face scrunched in surprise for a moment. “There’s hardly any  _Collins_ in this Tom Collins,” she said with a chuckle, trying to get past the strong taste of gin.

“Eh,” he said, “I suppose I’m always a bit heavy handed with the gin,” he said. “But what fun would it be otherwise? Besides, I always find I need a bit more to get through these things.”

Joanna sipped from her drink again. “I’ll say.”

Roger pushed his hair from his face in his casual, cool way he did when he was flirting with a new girl. Joanna stifled her amusement, waiting for the coin to drop.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you at one of these things,” he said, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek.

She smiled. She’d been hit on by boys at Oxford parties, but never quite as intensely as Roger was doing now.

“Oh, it’s not my first,” she said, looking up at him with a mirth in her blue eyes that caused Roger to unconsciously lick his lower lip.

“I’d remember a face like yours,” he said, leaning down and purring the words into her ear.

Joanna laughed softly. “Oh, we’ve met before, Roger,” she said.

He pulled back, and looked her in the eye, asking her wordlessly if they had ever…

“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “But if you can’t remember…” she added, amused.

“Who’re you with?” he asked, now taking the bait. It was going to drive him mad if he didn’t know how he knew her.

“With?”

“Are you here with someone?” he asked.

Joanna stifled a smile. “No one.”

He licked his lips again, happy in her response. “So you’re here… are you an artist?”

Joanna drew herself up straight, happy to answer this question. Perhaps for the first time. “Yes.”

“Ah, I could tell. You’ve got a look about you. Now, don’t tell me,” he said, and took her left hand in his, drawing her palm upwards, looking at her fingertips. Joanna watched, amused, as he ran his thumb over her calloused fingertips.

“The next Joni Mitchell,” he said.

She smiled. “Not the next Blondie?”

He shook his head, letting her hand go, and placing his hand on her hip, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Nah. You’ve got waifish hippy written all over you.”

Joanna’s eyebrow raised, challenging him.

“How do you figure?” she asked, looking down at her black, velvet dress that hugged every curve.

“It’s the hair, love,” he said, taking a tendril in his fingers. She hadn’t bothered to put it up as her mother always preferred. As a form of rebellion, she had left it wavy and long, cascading down her back.

She could smell the vodka on Roger’s breath, and she wondered how many he’d had already. She wondered how long she would let this go. But she was having too much fun.

Roger opened his mouth to say something else (most likely a proposition), when he was interrupted by John’s voice.

“Joanna,” he said, and placed his hand at a respectful position on her upper back, getting her to turn his way. “So good to see you.”

He pulled her into a hug, leaving Roger stunned as the scene unfolded before him.

Veronica came up next to John, and hugged Joanna next.

“Hi John, hi Veronica,” she said.

“You’ve grown up so much since we last saw you,” Veronica said, looking down at Joanna’s shoes, and then back up to her face. “How is Oxford?”

Joanna looked over at Roger’s face smugly. “It’s fine. I graduated last month, but we finished exams last week.”

“What was your degree?” John asked, watching gleefully as Roger gaped like a fish.

“History,” Joanna said.

“You alright, Rog?” John asked, smirking. “You look a little peaky.”

Roger closed his mouth and swallowed. “M’fine,” he said. “G-great to see you, Jo. Hardly recognized you.”

“Clearly,” Joanna said quietly, more for the two of them than for John and Veronica. Wanting to put Roger’s misery to an end, Joanna sighed, and looked around the rest of the room for her father. “If you all don’t mind, I think I’ll find my dad a moment. See whose arses I need to kiss to make him happy.”

They all nodded as Joanna left, and disappeared in the throng of people. Roger was suddenly aware of how distracting the music was—as John and Veronica drew him back to the moment.

“Thought we’d stop you before you _really_ made an arse of yourself,” John said.

“Yes, how old is she now, John?” Veronica asked, her eyes glinting.

“Twenty-two? Yes, I believe that’s it. Still so much the apple of Jim’s eye though, don’t you think?” he asked, drinking from his glass bottle.

“How was I supposed to know?” Roger asked, agitated. “Dressed like that…”

“What, would it be better if she wore pigtails until she was thirty, just to give _that_ brain a chance to catch up with the other?” Veronica asked, nodding towards Roger’s trousers.

“No, no, love, that would make it worse,” John said with a laugh, and Roger backhanded John’s stomach, causing John to laugh and put his hands up defensively.

“Make what worse?” a voice said behind the three of them. Brian came up with his hands on his hips, looking down at the three of them.

Veronica sighed vocally, and kissed Brian’s cheek hello. “Oh, Roger trying to shag Jim’s daughter.”

“What?” Brian said, looking down at his friend, whose face was beet red.

“Look,” Roger said, pointing towards where Joanna was standing, being hugged and fussed over by Freddie.

“Christ,” Brian said after a moment.

“Brian!” Veronica said in admonishment.

“What, Ronnie?” Brian said, feeling some sympathy for his friend. “She’s hardly the same person.”

“She’s still a child,” Veronica reasoned, looking at the three men in front of her, hoping to find at least one ounce of the shock she felt.

“She’s what, twenty-two?” Brian said. Veronica scoffed in shock. “What? I’m just saying! That’s hardly a child.”

She grumbled, and shook her head, walking away before she could deal with any more. They all heard her mutter something about ‘men’ before she disappeared.

“Still…” John said. “Boss’s kid. Forbidden fruit.”

“When has that stopped him?” Brian reasoned with humor. John cocked his head and nodded a second. He had a point.

“Fucking hell,” Roger said, unable to take it anymore, and he went to the other side of the room to sulk on the couch. Brian smiled and chuckled, but after standing there a moment with John, he looked over at Joanna.

She felt his gaze, and for a second, she looked back at Brian before blushing, tucking her hair behind her ear, and returning to conversation with Freddie and Jim.

Brian’s stomach flipped a moment. He’d always liked Joanna—he thought she was a sweet, smart kid. But looking at her now, he was having a hard time seeing that same kid he sat down when she was fifteen to teach guitar riffs. It wasn’t a moment later before he immediately felt guilt for looking at her that way.

“Come on, mate,” John said, clapping Brian on the shoulder. “Let’s get you a drink.”

Brian nodded, and followed John, breaking eye contact with Joanna. “Yeah. Okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

For a record label party, the party at Jim Beach’s house was starting to get out of hand. The music had been cranked up, and more than a few guests had forgotten where they were, and threw all convention out the window. Joanna watched in amusement from the deck as guests jumped into the pool in their cocktail attire. She looked everywhere for her father and mother, only to find them laughing in a corner with studio bigwigs. If they cared about how out of hand the party was getting, they didn’t show it.

Joanna laughed as Freddie floated in the pool, trying to coax Jim to come in with him.

“Oh no you don’t, love,” Jim responded in his charming, Irish lilt as Freddie hung over the side of the pool begging him to come in, splashing the hem of his pants gently.

Joanna noticed as she laughed that she had been standing right next to Roger, who was smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. She looked over at him, and caught his eye. He tensed at her presence.

She walked over, and hip checked him. “Forgive me?” she asked, crossing her arms. He held her gaze sternly for a moment, until he put his arm around her shoulders with a grumble and a smile.

“Of course,” he said, holding her closely. “Quite enjoyed yourself, didn’t you, though?”

She demurred, and smiled down at the ground before chuckling. “A bit.”

“Oh, what’s that?” Roger asked, leaning down to ask her to repeat herself. “A bit?”

Joanna nodded in suspicion. He nodded in response, saying only “Uh huh…” before setting his beer down, still holding his cigarette precariously in between his fingers. He then grabbed Joanna around the waist, and picked her up bodily, walking her closely to the pool. She squealed in protest, giggling despite her fear of being shoved into the pool in her cocktail dress.

“No, no, Roger,” she pleaded, trying to push herself away from him. He stopped at the pool’s edge.

“ _Still_ enjoyed yourself earlier, did we?” he repeated, a wicked smile playing on his mouth. He looked down at her, clutched mercilessly in his arms.

Joanna’s eyes found Brian’s in the crowd—he was talking with Veronica and John. He watched amusedly at the scene unfolding before him, despite his better judgment. He’d chastised himself for looking at Joanna that way earlier, but still, he couldn’t help but smile.

“I can’t hear you,” Roger’s voice brought her back to the present.

Joanna was stifling a low laugh, and thought the right answer would have been no. So, wanting to maintain some dignity, Joanna twisted around, her arm on Roger’s shoulder, hoping to hold onto him to prevent him from tossing her in, and she shook her head.

“No,” she said, and searched Roger’s face.

He relaxed a bit, and set her feet back down on the pool’s edge. “Alright,” he said, his arm still around her waist. He leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Payback’s a bitch.”

Realization dawned, but before she could escape, Roger had flung her into the pool, and her scream was muffled when she fell completely into the water. By the time she emerged, and the water had cleared from her ears, she was met with laughter from everyone out on the deck.

“Roger Taylor, you wanker!” Joanna cried with a laugh as she splashed him as best she could.

“We’re even now, love,” Roger said, and picked his beer up again, flicking his cigarette casually. He sauntered off a safe distance from the pool, and Joanna stood chest deep in the heated pool, trying to decide if she should make the sopping walk of shame just yet.

Freddie paddled up to her, and chuckled. “Stay a while, lovie,” he said, and Joanna sighed. “Grab on, let’s go for a paddle,” he said, reverting back to his role of Uncle Fred. Joanna smiled and laughed.

“Alright, Uncle Fred,” she said, and threw her arms around his neck from behind him, and enjoyed the heated water as the effects of her drinks settled in. She and Freddie paddled around the pool, horsing around and playing chicken with two others who decided that bathing suits were merely suggestions.

For the rest of the hour Joanna spent in the pool, she kept looking off in Brian’s direction. He had been watching her closely for the whole night, and his gaze set a fire in her stomach. She’d always had a soft spot for Brian, harboring a secret (or so she thought) crush on him for years.

Now that she had been to college, and been with a few boys even, she knew exactly what her feelings for Brian May meant. And at the age of twenty-two, she was just old enough that that evening, under the haze of alcohol, Joanna thought maybe she might stand a small chance. His separation from Chrissie was no secret, and at that thought, she felt intensely guilty.

Around them, the party had started to die down. Joanna watched as faces she hardly recognized slowly started to disappear, but still the band stayed. She noticed that tonight they all seemed to be closer than they had been for a long time. Since she could remember how it was when she was a child. And it made her smile.

So when Brian kicked off his shoes, and rolled up his pants, sitting down to put his feet in the pool, Joanna felt that maybe he had been sticking around not just for the band, but for her too.

Joanna swam to the edge of the pool, her hair trailing behind her. She put her arms up on the edge of the pool, and put her chin on top of them, looking over at Brian, who sat a few feet away. Brian twisted around, and leaned back to grab a towel from a stack that had been brought out when people started getting in. He put it in front of Joanna wordlessly.

“Oh,” she said, and pushed up out of the pool, effortlessly spinning to sit next to Brian. “Thank you,” she said, and wrapped the towel around her shoulders, patting at her hair.

“How ya been?” Brian offered, looking over at the drenched girl. Even sopping wet, she was so pretty it made his heart hurt. He tamped that feeling down, but noticed it always came bubbling up.

“Good,” Joanna said, nodding, and wrapping the towel around her waist when she felt she was no longer one big puddle.

“Oxford?” Brian offered.

Joanna pressed her lips together and nodded. Why was it so hard to lie to him? It had been so easy to lie to her parents.

“Got the degree,” she said.

“I hear there’s a PhD in store for you, huh? I’ll be calling you Doctor Beach soon enough,” Brian said, drinking from the beer he’d rested between his legs.

“Yeah…” Joanna said, noncommittally.

Brian chuckled. “You were always so easy to read,” he said.

“What?” Joanna asked, confused.

“Nothing…” He said, and shook his head. He opened his mouth to pry a bit more out of her, but she spoke first.

“I was sorry to hear about you and Chrissie,” she said, looking over at him. He nodded and pressed his lips together.

“My own fault really,” he said.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Marriage is complicated,” Joanna said finally, drawing a look from Brian that said “and you would know how?”

Joanna sighed, and shook her head. “I just mean that… No matter what… _happened_ … There’s always more than what’s on the surface. You can’t blame yourself completely, Brian. Was your marriage perfect before that happened?”

Brian’s eyes widened. “Sure that degree wasn’t in Psychology?” Brian challenged.

“I’m sorry, it’s not my business,” Joanna said, putting her hand to her forehead in mortification. The alcohol had made her too bold.

“No, no,” Brian said placing his hand on Joanna’s knee mindlessly. “It’s okay,” he said. “I appreciate that.”

Joanna brought her hand to her chest, and looked down at Brian’s hand on her bare leg. His skin felt so warm against hers, still chilled from the cool night air and the pool. He took his hand away and placed it in his lap, trying to pass it off as a friendly gesture, but Joanna could still feel Brian’s hand there when he took it away, just as Brian’s skin would remember the feeling of Joanna’s soft skin under his rough, calloused fingers.

Just then, the unmistakable sound of a guitar came from behind them on the pool lounge chairs. Freddie, wrapped in his own towels, sat with Joanna’s guitar on his lap, strumming out a few nonsense chords.

“And just where’d you get that?” Joanna asked with a cock of her eyebrow.

“Oh, nowhere special,” Freddie said with a mischievous smile. “Thought you might show us a little bit of what you’ve been doing on Friday nights.”

Joanna’s face blanched. Did he know? _How_ did he know?

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking ab—” she started, and Freddie’s eyebrows challenged her.

“Jim and I have seen you at least twice in that little pub down in Covent Garden, singing your pretty little heart out.”

Joanna looked over at Jim, who stood smoking a cigarette behind Freddie. He nodded in confirmation, and he winked at her, encouraging her in a way that only Jim could.

“Give it a go, darlin’,” Jim said.

Joanna sat frozen. She cursed under her breath.

“Shit…” she said, and fidgeted with her damp hair.

“Come on dear, you do it so lovely up on stage,” Freddie said.

“Oh, well, I was never aware I had one of the world’s greatest musicians watching me, let alone…” Joanna looked around and counted Brian beside her, and Roger lounging in a chair by Freddie. “Three of them…” she muttered.

“Shut up and play,” Roger growled into a joint he had dangling from his lips.

“Fine,” Joanna muttered, and came up to grab the guitar from Freddie’s hands. She sat at the foot of Roger’s lounge chair, and adjusted herself a second before considering Roger. She leaned over and plucked the joint out of his mouth, taking a generous drag before holding the smoke in for a few seconds and letting it out smoothly.

Freddie chuckled. “Kitten grew some claws out there at Oxford—what _would_ daddy dearest say?”

“I was pressured by a bunch of middle aged rock stars, I don’t know what you’re talking about Fred,” Joanna said, and set to work grabbing the capo from the headstock, and setting it at the fret she wanted. The four men sitting there laughed as Joanna started strumming out her song.

The cannabis had hit her now, and she locked into what she was doing, focused solely on the song, Joni Mitchell’s “Conversation”. Nothing registered in her mind as she finished the song, but what she missed was the delightfully shocked expressions on their faces.

Brian had turned fully towards Joanna, and was mesmerized by her command of the guitar, and the tone of her voice. She had none of Joni’s sometimes shrill edge, and even a slight tinge of Stevie Nicks’ huskiness.

When she finished, she sighed at the drunken, but genuine, applause that met her.

“Beautiful,” Freddie said, and Joanna’s eyes went straight to Brian, who had a stunned look on his face. She blushed, and looked back at Freddie.

“Thanks, Fred…” she said, and put the guitar down gently on the unoccupied chair beside Roger.

“I get the impression you don’t want anyone to know about this, darling,” Freddie said, and drank from his glass, the glass tinkling.

“Ah,” Joanna said, and shook her head. “You’d be right.”

“Why ever not?” he asked.

Joanna wrapped her arms around her midsection, chilled by the night air and her wet dress. She looked around, and saw inside the house, now so bright against the dark of the outside. Jim and Claudia Beach were nowhere to be seen.

“Ah… dad doesn’t approve,” she said, shivering slightly. “Got a PhD program at Cambridge and everything, and he doesn’t want me to be a singer.”

“That’s preposterous,” Freddie said. “I’ll have a word with Daddy Miami, you’ll see—”

“No, please,” Joanna said, louder than she’d anticipated. “No… I was going to wait to tell them. After the album launch.”

They all sat in silence, and Joanna shivered again. She chuckled to hide her insecurity. “I’m going to go change out of this dress. Someone decided I should take a little dip,” she said, and left before any of them could object.

She stalked into the house barefoot, trying not to take the stairs two at a time upstairs. She paused at the entrance to her parents room, and with the door shut, she could only assume that Jim and Claudia Beach had drank too much brandy and were already asleep. They never usually got that way, but as Joanna got old enough to handle herself at parties, they had let loose a little more. She sighed with the thought of how disappointed her father would be when she told him she was going to pass on the PhD program. She had considered telling him she was taking a gap year, and using that year to give music a go, but that lie would only take her so far.

Too high and too buzzed to think too hard on it, she padded her way to her own room, and began fumbling with the zipper at the back of her dress, cursing at how difficult it was to get a wet dress off.

* * *

“She’s good,” Roger said, puffing away at his joint, passing it to Freddie 

“I told you,” he said. “When I saw her up there, I just about died of shock. And then she opened her mouth and I was done for.”

Brian wordlessly walked over to the guitar that sat on the lounge chair, and picked it up, considering what he had just heard. He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t registered what Fred and Roger were talking about.

“I happen to know he’s got a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue up in his study,” Freddie said.

“Aren’t you tired, Fred?” a voice came from behind all of them. It was John and Veronica.

“Nonsense, Deacy,” Fred said, standing to clap John on the arms. “You’re never too tired for a good nightcap.”

“When you’ve got four kids waiting at home, you are,” Veronica said, and John knew that was that. They all said their goodbyes, leaving Roger, Jim, Freddie and Brian alone on the deck.

“Well, boys?” Freddie asked. “Shall we help ourselves to a nightcap?”

“Would Jim mind?” Jim asked, stretching slightly.

“Oh, I’ll buy him a whole case of Johnny Walker,” Freddie said, waving his partner off. They all stumbled up the stairs less than quietly, and left Brian standing alone on the deck, holding Joanna’s guitar.

Her voice had transfixed him, and in his drunken state, he had started having a thought. He had been wanting a challenge in his work. Was this it? Was Joanna Beach the challenge? Was she the project?

Or was it something else that had transfixed him so much? With a sigh, he pushed it from his mind, and walked the guitar up the stairs, meaning to return it to her room. He approached her door, which was ajar, and heard her cursing.

“Bloody fucking hell,” he could hear her voice say from inside her bedroom. Then a few thumps.

“Joanna?” he called, knocking on the door frame.

“Yeah?” her voice came. “Come in.”

Brian tentatively came in, looking for Joanna. He found her alright. She was stumbling towards him, and backed up, gathering her hair over her shoulder, presenting her back to him.

“Help me,” she said hazily. Brian’s mouth hung open a moment.

“What?” he said.

“The zipper, it’s stuck,” she said. “Stupid fucking dress, mum always puts me in these ridiculous things…”

“Er... Jo, I don’t know if…”

“Of for god’s sake, Brian, don’t be a prude, and unzip my dress,” she said, shocking him.

“Good lord, Jo, is that what you learned at Oxford?” he said, setting the guitar against her bed, and obliged her in unzipping the dress. He turned to leave as he saw Joanna start to peel the dress off almost immediately. Before he reached the door, she called him back.

“Brian, you have to help me,” she said. The dress was stuck around her waist. Made from a slinky fabric when dry, when wet it almost plastered itself to her body, and it had stopped just at her waist, pinning her arms at her side.

“Joanna, I’m not sure I should—” he started, but sighed when he saw how twisted the dress had become, and the inebriated state Joanna had descended into.

“You can look the other way,” she said, almost helplessly. “Or I can get Roger to help me,” she warned.

“ _No_ ,” he almost growled. The thought of Roger undressing Joanna made his blood boil.

He huffed, and approached her, taking both sides of the dress, and yanking downward, leaving her in a strapless black bra and matching underwear. His breath caught in his chest, and he turned away to avoid the pulling sensation that had built up in his core.

She stepped out of her dress gratefully, and disappeared into her walk-in closet. Brian turned to leave, but he heard her call out to him from behind the wall.

“Wait, Brian,” she said, and for some reason he couldn’t explain, he stayed. He cursed himself for thinking with his dick, and not his head. She was his manager’s daughter. He’d known her when she was a child. He shouldn’t be anywhere near her right now.

When she reemerged, she was in dry sweats and an Oxford sweater.

“Thank you,” she said. She skulked over to her bed, and plopped down at the foot, curling her legs underneath her. “That was embarrassing… but I couldn’t have done it by myself, so thank you. I’m sorry.”

She sighed, and looked down at the floor, and it broke Brian’s heart to see her there looking so defeated.

He slowly made his way to the foot of her bed, and sat next to her, both feet on the white carpet floor.

“What’s happening, Joanna?” Brian asked, and Joanna looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears.

“I’m being torn apart,” Joanna said, and laughed at how dramatic that sounded, wiping tears from her eyes. “I just can’t pretend anymore… I can’t pretend that I don’t want what I want.”

“What do you want?” Brian asked, taking Joanna’s free hand in his.

“I want to be a singer,” she said. “And I want to be a historian. And that’s the worst part. But I want one more than I want the other. And I know I’m going to disappoint my dad if I choose music.” At that, she lost it, and Brian could no longer leave her alone. He pulled her into his chest, and let her cry into it. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“I know exactly how you feel, Jo,” he said, rubbing at her back gently as she hiccupped. “My dad was disappointed when I gave up my PhD track,” he said.

Joanna pulled back, and looked at Brian with disbelief. “What?” she said, wiping tears from her face, calming a bit.

“Yeah, I was a year off from my dissertation,” he said. “I gave it up for Queen. My dad didn’t speak to me for a year.”

Joanna’s mouth gaped. Her eyelashes were heavy with tears. She knew that Brian had been in Astrophysics, but she didn’t know that his dad had stopped speaking with him.

“So, Jim might… be mad for a bit, Joanna, but… He’ll come around. The question isn’t what _he_ wants. It’s what _you_ want.”

“I want to try,” Joanna said, looking earnestly into Brian’s eyes.

He smirked. “I think you’ll do more than try,” he said.

“Yeah?” Joanna said, chuckling a little, wiping the rest of her tears away.

“Definitely. You sing beautifully. You _play_ beautifully.”

Joanna blushed. “I seem to remember a certain guitarist teaching me a thing or two.”

“I didn’t teach you _that_ much,” he said. “But I can teach you more.”

“I’d like that,” she said, and blushed at him. “But not right now… I’m a little baked,” she whispered.

He chuckled, and nodded. “I had picked up on that.”

“Care for a little juvenile regression, Mister Serious?” she asked, getting up and walking to her dresser, pulling out a fresh joint.

He grumbled. “I really don’t smoke, Jo,” he said. But he softened at her expression. And to be honest with himself, it was her messy, wavy hair, how cute she looked in her sweats, and the way her eyelashes framed her eyes like a doe’s that did him in.

“Fine,” he said. “Just this once.”

She smiled to herself as if she had won an argument, and sparked it up, lighting it away from herself before blowing on it to get it to burn. She then handed it to Brian first, and he took a drag before holding it in. Joanna followed suit, and watched as Brian’s eyes slightly glazed over. He let the effect take hold, and then he laid back onto her bed, his feet still on the floor. He sighed as he sunk into her down comforter. She laid down beside him, and let out a column of smoke beside him.

The two laid like that for several minutes, passing the joint back and forth. Joanna looked over at Brian, and feeling her gaze on him, he looked back at her, his eyes moving from her eyes to her lips. Everything in him told him he shouldn’t be here, in this situation, in her bed, looking at her this way. A thirty-nine year old man should not be smoking weed in his manager’s twenty-two year old daughter’s bed.

Joanna stubbed the joint out on the mirror beside her bed, and resumed her place beside Brian, noticeably closer to him, this time their arms touching.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Brian said aloud, addressing the elephant in the room.

“Why not?” Joanna asked, floating, but still tethered to the ground, feeling Brian beside her.

“You know why not,” he said. “So many reasons.”

“None of them hold water, Bri,” she said, running her fingers along the back of Brian’s hand. Slowly, the two of them interlaced their fingers. “And do you really care right now?”

She looked over at him, waiting for him to look back at her. He finally did, and could barely make out her features in the dark of her room. But the look on her face lit a fire in him, and he shook his head.

He leaned forward, ignoring all propriety, and gently pressed his lips to hers. Her breath hitched, and she gently returned the pressure Brian put on her lips. He brought his long fingers to her hair, and laced them in gently before deepening their kiss. He pressed his tongue to her upper lip gently coaxing her to open her mouth. She did so eagerly, and brought her hand to his jaw, running her thumb along his jawline as her tongue responded to his.

After a moment, Brian pulled away, and broke their kiss. He laid there, looking down at Joanna with heavily lidded eyes. He could see the auburn of her hair highlighted in the moonlight that shone through her window, and it would have been so easy right then to let himself take this further, but the nagging feeling inside him stayed his hand. He could see the look in her eyes said yes, but he wouldn’t let himself take advantage of her in her inebriated state.

God, did he want to stay though.

“I’m gonna go check on Freddie and the boys. I’ll be right back,” he whispered against her lips, and let himself kiss her again, gently. Before she could object, Brian had risen from the bed, and left Joanna’s room to cool off.

He ran his hands through his curly mane as he left her room, adjusting his trousers and allowed himself to stand in the hallway with his pulse elevated for a few moments before walking down the dim hallway to Jim’s study.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the sweet comments! They really help my motivation!
> 
> Now, I have never liked fan fictions that incorporate music lyrics, so I just won't do it, and I will trust that if you are into it, you'll look up the songs I include in the fic. I feel like they set the tone if you at least know the tune, but they're absolutely not required!
> 
> Cheers! Lots of fun things planned with this fic.

_1982_

_Joanna was used to people fishing for Queen autographs, or trying to slip her their demo tapes. It just came with the territory of being the daughter of Queen’s manager. But when it started interfering with her love life, it really stung._

_Joanna’s mind went numb as she curled up in her favorite place to hide on her family’s vast country estate. The arbor in the garden was hidden away nicely, and her favorite bench was nestled in with her mother’s prize roses. She tucked her knees into her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. She might have completely disappeared if it hadn’t have been for her sniffles. That’s what gave away her location._

_“Joanna?” a voice called, pulling her out of her stupor. Joanna wiped at the tears on her cheeks to quickly cover up the evidence, but she’d been crying for some time. It would show clearly in how red her eyes were, how damp her lashes._

_She looked around to find Brian May walking towards her. Joanna looked at Brian’s face, and then down at the ground. She tried to fake a smile._

_“Hi, Brian,” she managed._

_“Thought I saw you going off this way,” he said, sitting beside her, sitting casually, as if they were old chums who bumped into each other at the park._

_They sat that way for a moment._

_“Band meeting,” Brian said, explaining his presence._

_Joanna nodded. Her father had told her as much—it’s why she was self-soothing in the garden, rather than pouring her heart out to him._

_“Your dad told me what happened,” Brian said._

_Joanna scoffed. “Great…” she muttered._

_“No, no, he’s just concerned for you, is all…” he said._

_Joanna shook her head, and wiped at imaginary tears again. “Funny way of showing it.”_

_Brian nodded. “Don’t think it’s easy for a father to accept that his daughter’s showing interest in_ boys _…” he added with sarcasm. This made her chuckle, despite how upset she was._

_“You don’t have to do any of this, Bri…” Joanna said._

_“I know, I know,” Brian said, finally putting his hand on Joanna’s knee, patting it. “But I’m going to anyway.”_

_Joanna sighed, and rested her chin close to Brian’s hand._

_“Boys are twats,” he said. Joanna laughed fully, and Brian tucked her hair behind her ear._

_“Quite right,” she responded._

_“What happened?” He asked, putting his arm over the back of the bench._

_Joanna shook her head. What could she say? She’d found Bobby Thornton snogging Grace Worthington by the field house at her school—Bobby Thornton,_ her _boyfriend._

_So she told him as much. But what she didn’t tell him was that it was because Joanna refused to get him Queen tickets. He’d at least done her the courtesy of waiting a few months before he had asked._

_“Fuck ‘im,” he said. “He doesn’t know what he’s lost.”_

_Joanna chewed her lip a moment, looking over at Brian and considering her next words._

_“Do you think there will ever be a point when who I am, and who I’m related to, won’t matter to other people?”_

_Brian breathed in sharply, and his eyebrows shot up in thought. “Tough question. I think… that if you hide who you are, people will just resent you for it when they do find out. But you’ll get good at figuring out who’s a real friend. Who really likes you for you.”_

_“Don’t happen to have a set of instructions, do you?” Joanna asked, crossing her legs, and sitting back into the arm Brian had rested on the back of the bench._

_“Nope,” he said with a breathy chuckle. He thought a moment. “It hurts awful now. But it will get better. I know that’s shitty advice, but I promise that one day, it will be the last time you have your heart broken. I hope it’s soon.”_

_Joanna smiled, and leaned into Brian’s side. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder._

_“Some lucky sod, whoever he is, is going to know exactly what a good thing he has with you, and he’ll treat you with the love and respect you deserve.”_

_“Do you really think that?” Joanna asked, looking up at Brian—her stomach flipping a bit._

_“Absolutely,” he said, and pressed his lips to her temple in a gentle kiss._

* * *

Joanna woke suddenly, and looked around her dark room. It took her a moment to register where she was, what had happened that night… and who should have been there. Brian. She looked over at the clock—12:30am. 

She took stock of how she felt. She was starting to sober up, but wasn’t quite there. She sat up, and ran her hands through her hair before sliding off her bed to find out where Brian had gone. She walked down the dark hallway towards the only light on in the hallway—her father’s study.

The voices coming from the study were low, but lively. When she was in the doorway, she saw Jim and Freddie lounging on a couch, Roger sprawled out in a large chair, as always a cigarette dangling from his fingers, and Brian, sitting on the floor, his back to the seat of another, empty couch.

“Ah, Jo, lovie,” Freddie said, raising his glass. Joanna smiled, and came to the back of the couch. “Join us for a nightcap.”

“Our _third_ nightcap,” Jim corrected.

“Oh yes, that’s right…” Freddie said.

Joanna chuckled. “I’ve reached my limit, I think…” She sighed, and stepped over the back of the couch, lowering herself gratefully down onto the seat beside where Brian’s back rested. She could practically feel the tension that had built between them. It was like two positively charged magnets being forced together.

Joanna sat with the boys for almost an hour, and listened to them laugh and reminisce about past tours, and Joanna found herself wishing that she had been born sooner, that she had somehow been allowed to come with her father on one of the tours.

Joanna stretched out onto the couch, her feet by Brian’s head. She listened, she laughed, and she watched Brian intensely. Eventually, Freddie started to catch on.

“Love, I’m tired,” Freddie declared suddenly to Jim. “Let’s go.”

Jim sighed in relief. “ _The nightcap ends_ ,” he said.

“Come on, Roger darling, we’ll drive you home—you’re in no state to drive.”

“Jim, _you_ okay to drive?” Roger asked Jim.

“I haven’t had nearly as much to drink as you think I have,” Jim said, and started to rise with Freddie. 

“You okay to drive?” Joanna asked Brian quietly. He finally looked over at her.

“Ah…” he said, scratching his temple. He stood, and considered a moment.

“No, no, darling, judging from the looks of those red eyes, I’ll say you need some time,” Freddie said, clapping Brian on the shoulders. He pulled the much taller man into a hug.

“Have fun,” he murmured into Brian’s ear, and when Freddie had pulled away, the look Brian had shot him was so sharp it could have drawn blood. Freddie patted Brian’s cheek in response, and leaned down to kiss Joanna’s forehead.

“Lovely to see you, Joanna—please convey our thanks to Miami, and let him know he’ll be expecting a case of blue label soon.”

“Of course,” Joanna said, and watched as Freddie shuffled Jim out of the room. Joanna followed the boys out of the house, and stood with Brian on the circle drive out front.

All the boys were saying their proper goodbyes, and Joanna stood off to the side.

Roger and Brian were hugging their goodbye when Roger pulled back and gave Brian a knowing look.

“You alright, brother?” Roger asked Brian. “Do _I_ need to be the voice of reason?”

“No,” Brian said, shaking his head. He didn’t know why exactly he wasn’t shuffling on his way out too, but something said he should stay a bit longer. “I’m good.”

“Good, ‘cause if I find out our manager killed you tomorrow, I can only imagine the long, arduous auditions we’ll have to hold to replace you,” Roger said with a bit of parting humor.

Brian nodded. “Yes, yes, I know… _bugger off_ ,” he added to the lot of them.

And then they were alone, standing on the driveway in the dark of the night, illuminated only by one lamp post.

“I shouldn’t stay long,” Brian said to Joanna finally.

Joanna gave a half smile. “I’m fairly sure what I brought back with me from college was enough to euthanize a small horse, so if how I’m feeling is any indication, you should sleep it off. There’s a guest room downstairs,” she added with a rational tone. “It’s always made up.”

Brian stood and considered. Joanna maintained a fair distance, hoping to set Brian at ease. God, the tension was thick.

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that.”

They stood like that for a while, Brian’s hands in his back pockets, and Joanna’s arms wrapped around her midsection. Finally Joanna broke the silence.

“Are you hungry? I’m bloody starving,” she said.

“God, yes,” Brian said, relieved.

“The caterers should have left plenty in the kitchen,” Joanna offered, and turned towards the kitchen.

When they had gotten into the kitchen, Joanna opened the refrigerator, and brought out a tray of cold cuts and cheeses, placing it before the two of them. For a while, they sat and picked at it silently.

Joanna pushed herself up onto the kitchen counter, and sat next to the tray, right by where Brian stood.

Perhaps it was the last of the pot that had spurred her on, or perhaps it was the confidence in her sexuality she had gained in college, but Joanna cocked her head and looked directly at Brian.

“Are we going to talk about what happened?” she asked.

Brian looked up at her like a deer in headlights.

“God, I had hoped you were too far gone to remember that…” he said.

Joanna shook her head slowly.

“That—” he started, “that wasn’t right, what I did. I’ve known you since you were a child. I’m _old_ , Joanna.”

“I don’t think you’re old,” she reasoned coolly.

“Thirty-nine to a twenty-two year old should be old.”

She shrugged.

“Have you even been with someone my age? You know what— _no_ , I don’t want to know the answer to that question,” he said, flustered.

Joanna giggled. “You’re cute when you’re nervous,” she said, and grabbed at the hem of Brian’s shirt, pulling him closer to her. He allowed himself to be pulled, and looked at her sternly. But still, he came closer.

“ _Joanna_ ,” he warned, settling in between her legs as she sat on the counter.

“Don’t think,” Joanna said. She put her hands on his chest, and gripped his shirt. “There’s plenty of time for that tomorrow…” she whispered, and pulled him closer. He leaned down, and his lips barely touched hers. They sat like that, feeling the soft skin of each others’ lips, breathing lightly.

It felt like it happened in slow motion, but Brian eventually brought his lips onto Joanna’s fully. They kissed tentatively, taking time to ease into it. Joanna wrapped her arms around Brian’s neck, and tightened her legs around Brian’s waist. With a mind of their own, Brian’s hands came to Joanna’s thighs, and caressed them as he deepened their kiss. He moved his hands to her backside, pulling her into him, feeling her core against his stomach. At this, Joanna let out a soft moan, and Brian sighed in frustration.

He pulled away, and let himself recover from their intense kiss, breathing heavily. Joanna’s lips hovered in front of his, and she too took a moment to breathe.

“Well, I can tell you with certainty,” Brian started, “that I did _not_ expect this to happen tonight.”

“Neither did I,” Joanna said with a chuckle. She held onto Brian’s shoulders, and the two of them sat there breathing deeply, not allowing themselves to unravel.

“Joanna, I want…” Brian started, and swallowed to center his thoughts. “Can you play for me again?” he asked.

Joanna was shocked. She chuckled, and considered what he had just asked her.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re looking for a distraction,” Joanna said, tightening her thighs around Brian’s hips. Brian chuckled.

“Oh, I absolutely am looking for a distraction,” he said, “but I do want to hear you play again. Please?”

Joanna sighed, and ran her hands down Brian’s chest. She nodded.

“Right now?” Brian asked, hoping for mercy. Joanna laughed.

She shook her head. “Fine.” She pushed Brian away reluctantly, and hopped down off the kitchen countertop. Just then, Brian was reminded of how much shorter she was.

“Meet me by the pool,” she said. “They won’t hear us down there.”

She walked away, heading for her bedroom, where her guitar lay on her bed. When Brian had made it to the deck, he sat on one of the pool chairs, and hung his head in his hands. He heaved a heavy sigh, and chastised himself for smoking with Joanna. What the hell was he doing with her, anyway? Why couldn’t he just categorically shut all of this down?

Before he could answer his own questions, Joanna came padding barefoot out to the deck, and sat in the next pool chair, her knees almost touching his.

“Alright, Mr. May,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Why do you want me to play for you?”

“Just… just, please humor me,” he said, and rested his arms on his knees.

Joanna sat a moment in stony silence before sighing. She nodded, and cleared her throat. She considered her song choice for a moment.

“Right, so…” she said, suddenly insecure in front of Brian. “I bought this record a few months ago, and I’ve been trying to work out my own version… So if it’s shit, that’s why.”

She started to pluck out Tom Waits’ “Gun Street Girl”. She noticed how Brian’s breath caught in his chest when she started to croon out the lyrics, but pressed onward anyway. It was a far cry from Joni Mitchell, that much was certain.

When she finished, Brian was silent.

Joanna tucked her hair behind her ear, and chewed her lip a moment. “Well, say something Brian, or I’ll go mad…” she chuckled to hide her insecurity.

“You’re amazing,” Brian said definitively. “Joanna, I think you have something.”

Joanna blushed, and rested her arms on the top of the acoustic guitar. She ran her thumbnail along her teeth.

“Thank you,” she said, quietly.

“You’ll think I’m mad, but, please humor me…” he said slowly. “Come into the studio with me. Put something on tape.”

“Brian, I don’t want… I never wanted who my father is to affect my success.”

Brian breathed a moment and considered. “If I had heard that myself in a pub, I’d have approached you anyway. The fact that no one else has astounds me…”

Joanna chewed the inside of her lip. “What then? So I record something, and then what?”

Brian ran his hand through his curly hair and shook his head. “I’m not sure yet, but I want something on tape. Please,” he said.

It was the ‘please’ that got her.

“Okay, Brian,” she said. The two of them took a moment to let it sink in, and then they both started to chuckle.

“Now…” Brian said, standing. “I’m going to sleep this off. You’re a terrible influence, young lady.”

Joanna chuckled, and stood with Brian, setting the guitar on the pool chair, and stepping up so her chest grazed his midsection. She looked up expectantly, and he stared down at her. He put his hands on either side of her neck, and tilted her head upwards.

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, and kissed her sweetly. His lips lingered on hers as he allowed himself to fully appreciate the taste of her. Before she could respond, he backed away.

Joanna sighed. She knew he was trying so hard, and she wanted to respect that.

“Okay,” she said. “Goodnight.”

She watched as Brian made his way into the house, and disappeared down a hallway towards the guest room. She told herself that she knew what she wanted. Despite the diminishing haze of mind-altering substances, she’d always known what she wanted from Brian May. And it could wait for another day.


	4. Chapter 4

Joanna woke gradually to the sound of birds chirping. It felt like they were singing into megaphones—she supposed that was what she deserved for getting so completely smashed the night before. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she considered why she had gone so off the rails. The news she had to break to her parents that she was going to be giving up her PhD program couldn’t have been it…

And then of course there was something else at the corner of her mind. _Someone_ else. Joanna pressed her hands to her face in mortification. Had she really thrown herself at Brian that hard? 

She groaned, and looked over at the clock. Still only seven o’clock. Her habit of early rising in college would be a hard habit to break. She rolled out of bed, and shuffled out of her room, tying her messy hair back as she made it down to the kitchen. The closer she got, the stronger the smell of coffee, which she was desperately in need of.

She made a beeline for the coffee pot, blind to anything else in the kitchen.

“She lives,” her father’s voice said. Joanna looked up and saw Jim Beach, dressed for the day, reading the morning paper, and in no way worse for wear, and Brian, still in last night’s clothes, leaning back into his chair. Joanna’s stomach lurched, and her heart pounded. Brian and Joanna held each other’s gaze a moment before she poured her coffee and sat with the two of them.

“Have fun last night?” Jim asked, almost causing Joanna to spit her coffee out.

“What?” she coughed.

Jim seemed to hide a smile. “I suppose you earned the right to blow off steam, what with your exams being over now.”

Joanna nodded to hide her mortification. Did he know?

“Brian told me about last night,” Jim said, carrying the conversation. Joanna’s heart almost stopped. “I’m proud of you.”

“Proud?” Joanna heard herself say.

“When Brian told me you forced him to stay in the guest room after you saw how much he’d had to drink, I was impressed.”

Joanna gaped. “Oh, of-of course… Yeah, drinking and driving is terrible.”

“Truly it wasn’t that much,” Brian said, hoping to steer Jim to the land of oblivion. “But Jo said it was better safe than sorry.”

Brian politely finished his coffee with Jim and Joanna, and the three of them talked about the album launch, and the upcoming A Kind of Magic tour in a few months’ time. When it was appropriate, Brian made overtures towards leaving.

“Thank you, again, for letting me sleep it off last night,” Brian said to both Joanna and Jim. “Jim, I’ll be seeing you in the office. Joanna, it was lovely to see you.” Brian held Joanna’s gaze, his eyes telling her it wasn’t really goodbye.

“You too, Bri,” Joanna said, and let Brian get a safe distance out of the kitchen before she shot up out of her chair.

“I forgot to give something to Brian, a book—I’ll be right back,” Joanna said, running out of the kitchen.

Joanna sped into the front sitting room, grabbing the first book off the great oak bookshelf that her hand touched. She made her way out the front door, and slowed down on the circle driveway when Brian turned, hearing her footsteps.

“You forgot this,” Joanna said, looking down at the book. Of course it was a law book. One of her father’s. But that didn’t matter. “Shit…” she muttered to herself.

Brian chuckled. “Glad you got the hint,” he said, looking back at the house, assessing whether or not anyone was looking out the windows. Deciding in the affirmative, Brian settled for speaking to Joanna, rather than touching her, as he wanted.

“What I said last night still stands,” he said. “I want you to come in to the studio with me. I’m going to make a few calls, and get us in there. I’ll call when I get it worked out.”

Joanna nodded. She looked up at Brian expectantly.

“And what about the rest of last night?” Joanna prompted, quietly.

Brian thought on it a moment. “Gosh, it’s all slipping my mind, what _did_ happen last night?” he added with a wry smile. Joanna swatted his arm. He chuckled and shook his head.

“Just be ready for my phone call,” he said, and leaned down to kiss her cheek, which he did slowly. “I’d kiss you goodbye if I could,” he whispered into her ear. She sighed and looked down at her feet.

Brian started up his Volvo and drove away, leaving Joanna standing in the driveway, book in hand.

* * *

Brian’s keys hit the white corian countertop in his spacious London apartment. He headed straight for the bathroom, and turned the shower on. He stripped down, and while he waited for the water to heat up, he had a moment to think about last night. 

Brian didn’t usually drink to excess, but his divorce with Christine was getting the best of him. He’d punished himself for the last year, but he’d decided that enough was enough, and he had started to think he deserved some kind of happiness.

He’d already had plenty to drink by the time _she’d_  gotten there… and then it was just an attempt at a distraction. He was, after all, only a man. And she was a very beautiful girl. Woman.

The thought made him contort his face in mortification. His manager’s daughter. A girl he’d known since she was a child. He grumbled, and put his hand under the shower spray, deciding it was now warm enough. He stood under the spray of the water, his hands on the wall in front of him, and let the water drench his hair. He stood that way for a while, going over the images that had been playing in his mind all morning.

The image of Roger pulling her closer to the edge of the pool, how long her legs looked in that damned velvet dress. The jealousy that prickled at the back of his mind when he saw Roger’s hands on her. And the self-satisfaction he felt when she had asked him to help her out of her dress. He smiled at that, but forced himself to stop.

But he was here now, in that memory. The memory of how pale her skin was, how smooth it looked. He had never wanted to touch anything so badly in his life. And just like that, Brian started to grow hard. He heaved a big sigh, and found himself with one hand, the other rested against the tile wall.

He gripped his length, and hissed when he started to work himself over. Her soft lips on his, the way she softly moaned when he kissed her the right way. And god, the way she pressed herself against him in the kitchen. He felt like a teenager doing this in the shower, but he didn’t care.

“Fuck,” he cursed, and came quickly. He stood there and recovered, standing upright for the first time since he got into the shower. When he had moved on with his diversion, he finished his shower, and toweled himself off.

He walked through the living room of his apartment with his towel around his hips, picked up the phone, and called a number he hadn’t called for many years.

* * *

Joanna put the law book back on the shelf. No need to keep the rouse up. She padded back to the kitchen feeling lighter than air, but tried to tamp it down when she sat back down with her dad, pouring herself another cup of coffee. 

“Well,” Jim said, assessing his daughter. “What’s on the agenda for the day?”

Joanna cleared her throat. “I thought I might go see some friends in the city,” she said. “Maybe go shopping a little.” In truth she had no idea what she was going to do with herself. Since she had no plans to go to Cambridge in the fall, she felt like an unmoored vessel, drifting further and further from its origin, and no closer to its destination.

“And after that?” he said, his eyebrows picking up.

“Er,” she said, scratching at her temple. She knew where this conversation was headed. “I don’t know, dad.”

“Joanna,” he said, “you have to commit to the program you’ll be attending in the fall. Staying at Oxford is wonderful, but mum and I want you to consider the position at Cambridge.”

“I know,” Joanna said, spinning her coffee and staring at it. “I just thought maybe… Maybe I might take a gap year. Dean Glidden said that I could defer my acceptance to Cambridge if I’m doing some kind of work. Doing something of merit.”

“Why on earth would you defer your enrollment, Joanna? You’ve done so splendidly at Oxford. Top marks.”

Joanna’s heart hammered. “Dad, I… I’m just a little worn out, is all. I thought maybe I might go to work for you at the record label,” she looked up to gauge his expression. “For a while…” she added, her heart sinking.

“Joanna, I don’t know what work we have for a classically trained historian at the label,” he said with a smile.

Joanna steeled herself and breathed in. “I thought about that. I know that basement is full of old photographs, archival footage… so many things that deserve to be preserved, cataloged.”

“That’s an awfully big task, Joanna,” he said, but Joanna could see he was considering it. “Tell you what. I’ll ask around the office. See how the idea is received.”

“Thanks, dad,” Joanna said. “What are you going to tell mum?”

Jim inclined his head. “Oh, you think _I’m_ telling her that you’re deferring enrollment for a year? Fat chance.” He rose, and kissed the top of her head, leaving her there to stew.

* * *

“Thanks, Ken, I really owe you one,” Brian said into the receiver on his phone. 

“Don’t mention it, Bri,” the man named Ken said on the other end. “But if anyone asks, mum’s the word, eh?”

“Got it,” Brian said. “See you at eight?”

“Right,” Ken said, and that ended their conversation.

Brian hung the phone up with his thumb, keeping the phone cradled in his shoulder. He dialed the next number, praying that Jim Beach had gone to the office for the day.

When the ring tone stopped, it was a female voice on the other end. Joanna.

“Hello?” she answered.

“It’s Brian,” he said simply.

“Oh, hi,” she said in return, feeling stupid already. “That was quick.”

Brian chuckled. “When I say I’m going to do something, I do it… I made a phone call, and I’ve got some time in at a studio tonight.”

“Tonight?” Joanna sputtered, standing in the kitchen.

“What, you’ve got somewhere else to be? Urgent, post-graduate matters?” Brian teased.

“What if I did?” Joanna countered, winding the telephone cord around her finger.

“Then I’ll just tell Ken at Abbey Road Studios that we don’t want the studio for the night,” Brian said.

“Wait, _what_?” she nearly shouted.

Brian laughed lightly. “So _that_ got your attention, did it?”

“Brian,” Joanna said rather loudly, and then hushed herself, hoping the housekeeper and her mother were both out of range. “Brian, how did you manage that?”

He smiled, and it extended from ear to ear. Her naïveté was like a breath of fresh air. He decided then not to tease her about it.

“We’ve done some recording there,” he explained.

“Oh, right…” Joanna said.

“So, we’ve got the space from eight to… whenever we’re done. My buddy Ken is going to run the equipment for us.”

Joanna’s mouth went dry. Was this really happening?

“Jo?” Brian’s voice brought her from her stupor.

“Yeah,” she responded.

“Can you get away to the city tonight?”

“Yeah, I already told my dad I was going in to the city to see friends,” she said.

 “Good, good…” he started. He steeled himself before he continued on. “Well, I’ll give you my address, and you can meet me here before we head to the studio. Say six?”

Joanna’s heart stopped. “Oh, ah, sure…” she said, and wrote it down as it was dictated to her.

“Right then, see you at six,” Brian said, hoping he hadn’t crossed a line inviting her to his apartment.

They both hung up, and sat in stunned silence. Was she really going to be in his place, alone? The night after they had drunkenly kissed (more than a few times, Joanna reasoned)? Everything was moving at a blistering pace, but Joanna was elated. The more she thought about it though, the more she started to talk herself out of what it meant.

She would get there, and he was going to put his hand out in front of himself and say “Joanna, last night was a mistake, we just can’t do that again.”

Brian, subsequently, sat in his apartment clad only in jeans, and thought that after Joanna got there, they wouldn’t be able to keep themselves apart, and Jim Fucking Beach would come barging through the door barking “what in the hell are you doing with my daughter?” Brian grumbled and put his head in his hands. It was too late to back out now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes!  
> a) I made a mistake with Brian's age. He's 38 at the time I'm writing. I'll go back to previous chapters and change that later.  
> b) Smut layeth ahead. But you're here for it. Aren't we all?  
> c) Unprotected sex. Be responsible kiddos. Wrap it up.

Joanna straightened the collar of her white, off-the-shoulder, long sleeved shirt, hoping it wasn’t too much. She pulled her black skirt down a tad, kicking herself for putting this ridiculous outfit on. But it was too late—she was here, and her hand acted of its own accord, knocking on the door. 

It was only a few seconds before Brian opened the door. He had been sitting at the kitchen bar waiting for her. As he opened the door, he realized how eager he must have looked. All of that was lost, however, when he saw her standing there. His throat threatened to go dry, but he swallowed, and stepped aside.

“Come on in,” he said. “Hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the place. Where’d you park?”

Joanna followed Brian in. “In the lot across the street. I found the place fine.”

Brian and Joanna stood there looking at each other expectantly. Joanna’s eyes lingered on Brian’s black button down shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and the top four buttons undone. Her heart fluttered a bit at the sight of him.

“Right,” Brian said, and gestured around the apartment. “This is it. It’s all a bit new.”

Joanna nodded, and walked the perimeter of the open concept apartment, marveling at the row of tall windows that made up half the apartment.

“I like it,” she said, clasping her arms behind her back nervously. Why was it so hard to say anything now? After a night like last night, it should be easy. But without the haze of alcohol and mild drug use, Joanna was stripped bare. There was nothing to hide behind.

Her eye caught on the hallway to her left, and she took a few steps in that direction.

“Yeah, sure,” Brian said, following her. “That’s the kids’ bedrooms, mine. My music room.”

Joanna looked back at Brian a moment before turning into the first room on the right—the so-called music room. Joanna’s face lit up when she saw a baby grand piano, several guitars hung neatly on the wall, a corner made up of stereo equipment and vinyl turntables. Brian stood beside her and watched her expression.

“I thought we could talk about what we want to do when we get in the studio. Maybe order a little takeout before. There’s this great Thai place down on the corner,” he offered.

Joanna nodded. “Anything’s fine…” Brian told her to make herself at home, and he went off to order their food.

Joanna walked slowly around the music room, and settled on the piano. She smiled to herself as she sat, and lovingly caressed the black and white keys before starting to play Wallflower by Peter Gabriel.

Brian heard her from the living room, with the phone to his ear. He rushed the order through, and hung the phone up, not wanting to miss any more of what Joanna was doing. He walked quietly to the doorway, and paused there, watching as Joanna played. Her back was turned to the door, so it afforded him the opportunity to watch her without her worrying about an audience.

Joanna came to the pre-chorus, singing extended notes, and feeling suddenly self-conscious, stopped playing the piano, and stared out the wall of windows at the far side of the room.

“Why’d you stop?” Brian asked, coming in to the room. He stood by the piano stool a moment before Joanna scooted to the side to allow him to sit, facing the opposite way so he could look at her straight-on.

Joanna shrugged. Brian leaned against the piano and stared her down, willing himself to push past the observation that under her white shirt, Joanna wasn’t wearing a bra. He thought to himself that she must have made that decision consciously, which made him thrill at the thought of what the night could possibly hold in store. But in this moment, he set that aside. He wasn’t going to let her shrug her way out of this one.

“It’s intimidating,” Joanna said. “You’ve got years of experience… this whole career that I could never…”

Brian gave a half smile, and leaned down to catch Joanna’s gaze. “Where do you think I started? The beginning, just like everyone else. All anyone ever needs is practice. But from what I’ve heard and seen… you play well. You _sing_  like a damn angel.”

Joanna blushed.

“So do you write your own music?” Brian asked.

Joanna chewed the inside of her lip a moment and simply shook her head.

“Why not?”

Joanna shrugged again. “I just never came up with anything I liked enough,” Joanna said. “The words come easily, but the melody just… escapes me.”

Brian smirked. Melodies were his thing.

“I’d love to see some of your stuff,” he said.

“It’s in a journal… at home,” Joanna said, grimacing slightly. “I would have brought it if I thought you were interested.”

“I absolutely am,” Brian said. “Tonight though, we can record whatever you like. But I hope you’ll humor me on a few things.”

Joanna chuckled in fear. “Oh god, should I be worried?”

“No, no,” Brian said, and stood to grab a guitar off the wall. “So what’s the first song going to be tonight?”

Joanna walked to Brian, and took the guitar before sitting on a nearby stool. She tested the strings for tuning, and finding them in working order, looked up at Brian.

“Donovan… Season of the Witch?” Joanna started strumming out the first riff, letting Brian catch up. He smiled, and pulled the Red Special off the wall. He plugged her in, and joined Joanna. He watched her go, spurred on by his smile and backing guitar, and thought to himself that tonight was going to be amazing.

* * *

As Joanna was belting out the lyrics to her third song of the evening, she thought that she hadn’t had this much fun in years. Singing on stage in a pub was always a thrill, but this was something else. Watching Brian and Ken’s faces from the other side of the studio glass was the ultimate rush, and the perfect ego boost. 

As she sang her heart out, Ken and Brian talked in the booth.

“And this is Jim Beach’s daughter?” Ken murmured as he turned a dial, his eyes still on Joanna. His bristly eyebrows furrowed over his steel grey eyes, still full of life in his seventieth year.

“Yep,” Brian said, sipping at the bottle of mineral water he had rested in his lap. He swiveled back and forth slightly in his chair, his eyes fixed on Joanna.

“She’s…” Ken said, staring at her the same way Brian was.

“I know,” Brian said with a slight breathy chuckle.

“Twenty-two you say?” Ken asked, looking over at Brian. Brian knew that tone.

“Yes…” he said.

“You convince Miami Beach it’s a good idea, and I think you might have the next Carly Simon on your hands… Or Stevie Nicks. Or Joni Mitchell. God, I don’t know… She’s…”

“Different,” Brian said, nodding. “I can’t let her slip through my fingers. The boys want a break from touring after this tour in a month, and I just… I don’t want her talent to linger any more.”

Ken guffawed to himself, and drank from his beer bottle, now mostly lukewarm.

“What?” Brian challenged.

“Her ‘talent’,” he mimicked. He looked back through the glass. “That the same ‘talent’ you’ve been staring at all night?”

Brian rolled his eyes. “I’m too old for her, Ken,” Brian reasoned. But he didn’t really believe that. He just wanted others to believe he did.

“Bullshit, May,” Ken said. “ _I’m_   old. Thirty-eight isn’t old. It isn’t even too old for twenty-two. Sure, it might get a few looks, but… come on, kid. Don’t be stupid.” Ken looked back through the window, and Brian did the same. Brian sighed. Ken was right.

Joanna finished, and Brian pressed a button to speak with Joanna.

“That was great, Jo, really… You up for one more tonight?”

Joanna nodded modestly, and watched expectantly as Brian entered the booth.

The whole night, it had been Joanna in the booth on her own. Her stomach did a somersault when Brian was only an arm’s length from her.

“You want to do one together?” he asked quietly. So quietly he wasn’t sure Ken would hear him.

Joanna was transfixed by his hazel eyes—she always was. So she could only nod in the affirmative.

“’Love of my Life’?” he asked, and Joanna’s mouth gaped a moment.

“I don’t… I don’t know the guitar parts to that one,” she said, looking from Ken back to Brian.

“It’s okay,” Brian said, and took her guitar from her. He grabbed a twelve-string guitar off of a stand in the corner, and pulled a stool up next to her. “I’ll play. You just sing.”

Of course Joanna knew the song. She knew _all_  their songs. And that was the part she wanted to hide from Brian. She didn’t know why.

“Okay, Ken,” Brian said. “Just one more, and we’ll be done.”

Ken nodded and started rolling new tape.

“So, I’ll do first verse, and you take the second?” Brian offered.

Joanna nodded her head, and sat up straighter. Brain strummed out the first few chords, and she gripped her stool tighter when he started to sing.

She knew Brian could sing. But hearing it live and hearing it on vinyl were two different things. If Freddie sang like a god, Brian sang like an angel, she thought absently. Her smile widened when Brian finished his verse. They ran the song four times in total—the least amount of any of the songs they had laid down that night. They just gelled that well. Joanna and Brian exchanged a meaningful glance when Ken came through the intercom and told them that it was perfect.

Soon, they were packing their instruments back into Brian’s Volvo, and Joanna looked at the tapes in her hands.

“Brian, I can’t believe we did this,” she said, looking up at him after he had finished loading up into the car.

He smiled. “You did amazing,” he said.

“So now what?” Joanna asked, the two of them only a foot apart.

“Well,” Brian reasoned, “I’d like to take the demo and show it to a few producer friends. Or… we could just go to the label and put it on the right desk.”

“Brian, I don’t know…” Joanna demurred.

“You said Jim knows you’re deferring for a year, right?” Brian asked.

“Yeah, but—”

“Well, then no buts,” Brian said. “Let me work on him, okay?”

Joanna thought on it a moment, and then nodded.

Brian opened the passenger door for Joanna, and Joanna got in. She held her arms to herself in the late spring night air, and when Brian got in beside her, he noticed her holding herself tighter.

“Here,” he said, pulling a jacket from the back of the car. Joanna put it on with a small word of thanks.

They drove in relative silence to Brian’s apartment. Time was creeping up on them. It was one in the morning, and they were running out of chances to address the massive pressure building up between them. When Brian parked, the two of them wordlessly unloaded the car of instruments, and both headed in to the lobby, a guitar in each hand.

The elevator ride up afforded them a moment to speak.

“Do you… want to stay for a drink?” Brian offered. “I know it’s late, but—”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” Joanna said, and the matter was settled. The weight of it hung in the air, and the both of them held their breath like you would before a wave hit.

Joanna felt like it took them forever to get through the front door, and to set the guitars down in the music room. Brian excused himself, kicked off his shoes, and got to work in the kitchen, pulling out two wine glasses, and a few bottles.

“Do you like white or red?” Brian asked, looking at both.

“The white,” Joanna said in reply, and sat at the kitchen bar watching Brian uncork the bottle. He poured their glasses, and sat beside her without a word.

They drank the golden hued liquid quietly, and Joanna audibly sighed.

“Tonight was…” she shook her head, speaking into her lap. “Wonderful. Thank you,” she looked up at him and made direct eye contact. It pierced his heart.

“You’re welcome,” he said, and drank to give himself something to do.

Another loaded silence. Brian couldn’t take it anymore. “So I keep thinking about last night,” he said.

Here we go, Joanna thought. The let-down. Her stomach knotted. “Me too.”

“And seeing you tonight, _without the influence of substances_ ,” he added humorously, “I realize that I’ve only just scratched the surface of who you are.”

Joanna swallowed, and let him continue.

“I think it would be nice,” he said, setting his glass down on the countertop. “Taking the time to get to know you.”

Joanna’s heart fluttered. “I think so too.”

The two of them smiled, but something in Joanna’s mind turned on her. Get to know her? Was that a subtle brush off? A way of saying she was coming on too strong?

She set her glass down too, and put her hands on her knees. “I should get going,” she said, and stood abruptly. Brian’s heart sank. Had he said something wrong?

“Oh,” Brian said, running a hand through his hair. He watched helplessly as Joanna started gathering her things. She was about to slip through his hands, and with panic he thought he couldn’t let that happen without making sure.

“Did I say something wrong?” Brian asked, walking to where Joanna stood. She looked up at him—god, how he towered over her. Her breath caught.

“No,” Joanna said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I just… Brian, if I’m putting you in an uncomfortable position, please tell me. I know what I want, but I want you to want it too.”

He felt a pull in his chest. “God, Joanna,” he said. “I _should_  be uncomfortable, all propriety tells me I should be, but… when I’m with you, I feel so different. I haven’t felt this way in a long time.”

Joanna smiled, despite her uncertainty he meant what he said. “How do you feel?”

“Don’t you know?” Brian said, bridging the small gap between them, Brian’s midsection pressed against Joanna’s chest. “I don’t know where you came from all of the sudden… But I don’t want you to go. Stay.”

His words sunk in, and Joanna’s heart stopped as he put his hands gently on her neck, behind her ears, and tilted her head up. Brian leaned down, and kissed her reservedly. He waited for her to respond. Joanna let him kiss her for a moment, and then she dropped her purse fully on the floor to bring her hands to his waist. They stayed glued to each other, but Brian started to walk her backwards towards his white leather couch. When his calves hit the couch, he pulled her down with him gently. She sat beside him, and the two sat kissing rather chastely for a moment.

Joanna pulled away, and looked over at Brian, his eyes heavy with want. Spurred on by the look in his eyes, Joanna pushed up off the couch, and sat astride Brian, her hands in his hair. She could be aggressive when she wanted, and god did she want Brian. His hands found her thighs, and she pressed her core to him as they deepened their kiss. He ran his hands further up her thighs, under the black skirt that had been driving him mad all night, and found her ass, gripping it appreciatively. He used his grip to press her core into him harder, and Joanna could feel his growing want for her from beneath his jeans.

She let out a small, surprised moan, and broke their kiss to look down at Brian. He kept at it, watching her as he stirred something deep inside her.

“God, you’re so beautiful, Jo,” he said, and brought his hands to her breasts, over her shirt. He thumbed at her breasts over the fabric, bringing her nipples to a peak, which he admired through the white fabric. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you put this on,” he said with a low chuckle.

“Is it working?” Joanna asked, knowing the answer as Brian’s hands pulled the hem of her shirt up, finding their way underneath. His hands, rough from years of guitar playing, danced over her breasts, and she stifled a moan.

“Yes,” he whispered, and pulled the shirt up. Joanna helped him remove it. He breathed deeply as he admired her, now pressing his lips to her chest, just below her collarbone. Joanna’s breathing picked up, and she let him continue to kiss her as she unbuttoned his shirt. His lips found her nipples, and she whimpered as he teased them. He let out a satisfied, breathy sound as she pulled his shirt down over his shoulders. When he had shrugged out of it, the two of them found each other in a kiss, pressed against each other.

One shoe fell from Joanna’s feet, and the other met it on the floor.

Brian’s hands came to her thighs again, and when they met her hips, his thumbs played at the sides of her underwear. One hand deftly found its way between her thighs, and he felt at the center of her, finding her underwear already soaked through. She whimpered and bucked at the touch.

“ _Fuck_ , Joanna…” Brian hissed. “You’re so wet for me.” Normally he would have taken pleasure at teasing her, but having a young, hot-for-him girl straddling him after almost a year of celibacy, Brian found he couldn’t wait. He pulled her underwear aside, and his middle finger found her wet center.

She cried aloud against his lips, and gripped his shoulders tighter. She trembled slightly as he worked her over, circling her increasingly-sensitive clitoris. She rocked her hips against Brian’s hand, helping him along. He pressed his middle and ring finger into her, which slid in effortlessly, and she cried out again.

“ _Brian_ ,” she said in desperation.

He moaned in satisfaction. “Tell me what you want, Joanna,” he said, gently pumping his fingers in and out of her.

She moaned when his thumb met her clitoris, and she gripped the roots of his hair at the nape of his neck.

“I want it all,” she said. “I want it all, and I want it now.”

Brian was more than happy to oblige her. He leaned forward, and Joanna stepped back onto the ground, allowing Brian to stand in front of her. He placed her arms around his shoulders, and grabbed her ass, bidding her to wrap her legs around him.

“Hold onto me,” he said, and she complied. He carried her effortlessly down the hallway, and as Joanna clung onto him, she was surprised by how strong he was, considering his thin frame. In a moment, they were in his bedroom. Brian set Joanna down on the bed, and started unbuttoning his jeans. They fell to the floor, and Brian stood there in front of Joanna for a moment. He grabbed his length, and held it, giving it a light stroke.

“Take off your skirt,” he said, taking on a commanding tone that nearly sent Joanna over the edge. She complied, unbuttoning the wrap skirt, tossing it aside, leaving her only in her white underwear.

He leaned forward onto the bed, and settled in between her legs. He hooked his fingers in her underwear, and pulled them all the way off, leaving her completely exposed. The cold air against her wetness shocked her, but Brian was quickly going to cover it.

He placed himself comfortably between her legs, and kissed the insides of her thighs.

“Is this okay?” he asked, looking up at Joanna. Her legs trembled.

She’d been with a few boys in college, but those encounters were rushed—fumblings in dormitories, perfunctory and in no way generous.

“Nobody’s ever…” she started, and couldn’t finish. She suddenly realized, maybe she was in over her head. How many lovers had Brian had before her? How inadequately would she measure up?

He gave a wolfish grin. “Seriously?” He looked at her sex greedily. He chuckled. “Lucky me…”

He slowly lowered his mouth onto her, licking first one stripe from the bottom to top. She bucked her hips, and Brian’s response was to hold onto her hips, holding her in place. She was pinned beneath his mouth, and he licked patterns up and down her sex, delighting in the way she tasted. He could feel how hard he’d become, and his precum dampened his stomach.

She didn’t last long, and soon her hands shot to his curly hair. Knowing she was close, Brian increased his pressure and speed, and in a few seconds, she was coming under him, her hips involuntarily rocking against him. After she had come, Brian’s mouth became too much for her, and she squirmed away from him. He smiled, and kissed his way up her body, settling his hips between her thighs. His face was level with hers, and he kissed her mouth.

She tasted herself on his lips, and it aroused her even more. Needing to feel him, Joanna reached between them, and grabbed his length, gently stroking.

“Brian,” she whispered. She positioned him at her entrance, and he felt how soaked she was.

“You want it?” he asked. He feigned thrusting once, causing her to whine. “Tell me you want it, baby…”

“I want you inside me, Brian,” she said desperately.

He sighed, and pressed into her easily, only stopping when he could go no further. Joanna held onto his shoulders for dear life—he was bigger than anyone she’d been with, though the list was short. He let her adjust a moment before he started to move in her.

They lost themselves in this, and Brian’s lips lightly rested against Joanna’s. They moaned into each other’s lips, and when he could take it no longer, he pressed a bruising kiss to her lips, which she accepted fully. Her hips snapped up with his, and her muscles tightened around his length, spurring him towards his climax.

“God, Brian,” she said finally, “harder.”

Brian was happy to accommodate, and his hips bucked into hers harder, Brian hitting the spot deep inside her she needed. Within a minute, Brian was at the edge.

“I’m gonna come, Joanna,” he warned, and she nodded, willing herself to the edge with him.

As he came, Joanna followed. He moaned gently into her shoulder, and Joanna could feel him spill his seed inside her. She was thankful then that she was on the pill, protected from pregnancy, but in her fevered want for Brian she’d thrown safety to the side—in hindsight, she absently thought they should have worn a condom.

When he was completely spent, he laid between her legs, recovering. He pulled back to look at her, her hair lightly stuck to her temples with sweat. He gave her such a reverent look that it sent her heart pounding yet again.

After a moment, he pulled out, and settled on the bed beside her. He pulled her into him, and cradled her there as they both panted. He pressed kisses into her shoulder, and propped his head up on his arm, looking down on her.

He smiled, and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips.

He looked at her again admiringly before saying, “I’m in deep trouble.”


	6. Chapter 6

Joanna rose before Brian—she sat on the side of the bed, watching Brian sleep, wondering if he had been like her years before, when he was a student. The thought made her heart hurt a bit—Brian gave up his career in astrophysics to be a musician. One of the most successful musicians in the world, she told herself, but she wondered if he ever regretted his decision. She got up in the pre-dawn light, and put Brian’s black button down shirt on, its tails coming just below her butt.

She went out into the kitchen, and started scouring the cabinets for coffee. She set a pot brewing, and sat in an armchair, curled up with her mug, watching the sun rise through the row of windows. She thought, in that time, about what her life would be like in the coming months, the next year. A pit in her stomach hadn’t been filled yet, but Brian taking her to the studio last night had been the first step.

She was still lost in thought when Brian came up behind her, clad only in sleep bottoms, and leaned down, kissing her neck.

“You’re up early,” he said. She hooked her arm around Brian’s neck, and brought him down for a chaste kiss.

“Habit,” she said. “We haven’t all been rock stars for the past ten or so years.” She winked at him. He went into the kitchen and poured his own mug of coffee. He sat on the couch and beckoned her over. She set her mug down, and sat with Brian, tucking her knees into her chest. He pulled her into the crook of his arm.

He sighed, and sipped from his coffee. He kissed the top of her head, and ran his fingers lightly down her hair.

“How on earth are you going to explain your late arrival to your parents?” he asked with a wry smile.

Joanna sighed. “I’ll just have to tell them that I was shagging Brian May… They’ll get it.”

Brian swiftly put his mug down on the coffee table, and pinned Joanna on the couch, his fingers digging into her sides. She squealed as he tickled her.

“Oh is that what you’re going to tell them?” he asked.

She begged him to stop, and he relented. He settled between her legs, and his face hovered before hers.

“I’ve lived an independent life for the last four years,” she said. “Doing what I wanted, going where I wanted…” She ran a finger down Brian’s jawline thoughtfully. “I have to tell them one thing or the other. I was with you last night… or I have to tell them about the music. It can’t be both. Not yet.”

Brian sighed, and put his head on Joanna’s chest a moment before looking back into her eyes.

“The music,” he said. “Save the harder pill for later.”

She nodded. “I agree,” she whispered. “But… I don’t want to stop. Seeing you, that is.”

“Me either,” Brian said, and he kissed her sweetly. He sat up, and laid back on the couch, pulling her with him. “Come here, I’m afraid I’ll crush you.”

Joanna smiled, and laid on top of Brian, nestled tightly between the crook of his arm and the back of the couch.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said, his words rumbling in her ear as she rested her head on his chest.

“Hmm?” she said sleepily.

“Come on tour with us,” Brian said. Joanna looked up at him in surprise.

“You’re joking,” she said, searching his face.

“I’m serious,” he said. “It would be an easy sell with Fred, Roger and Deacy.”

“A-and how are you going to get the label on board with this? You’ve got headliners already, surely.”

“Well, yes,” Brian said. “You could meet a lot of people in the industry this way. Get on stage with us even… We could be together. It would be a few months. Enough time for your dad to grow accustomed to the idea of you being a singer…”

“It… sounds wonderful, Brian. But are you sure that the boys would be okay with it?”

Brian breathed in. “You leave them to me. I play them one track off your tape, and they’ll have to say yes.”

“I won’t be a groupie, Brian May, if that’s what you’re asking,” Joanna warned, and Brian returned her warning glare with incredulity.

“I’m an old man, Jo, do you really think I have the patience for that roadie shit anymore?” Joanna was silent. He sighed, and put his forehead to hers. “I would never do that to you. Okay?”

Joanna nodded, and softened. Joanna smiled and buried her face in Brian’s chest.

“Is that a yes?” Brian asked, looking down at Joanna. “Is it?”

Joanna laughed. “Yes,” she said, and Brian couldn’t contain his elation. He pulled her close, and kissed her deeply.

What started as a celebratory kiss turned more wanting, and Joanna pressed her thigh between Brian’s legs, feeling him grow hard.

“Again?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“God, yes,” he whispered. Joanna didn’t wait—she sat up, and straddled Brian’s hips, leaning down to kiss him. He held onto her hips tightly, encouraging her rocking her hips back and forth. With the only fabric separating them being Brian’s sleep pants, Joanna knew she was leaving them wet. His hands traveled higher up her hips, and settled on her waist, just under his shirt she wore.

“What do you want, Brian?” Joanna asked, mimicking what he’d asked her just a few hours before.

“What was it you said?” Brian asked, wincing in pleasure when Joanna pulled his sleep pants down enough to expose him, her slick folds sliding over his length.

“I don’t know,” Joanna said truthfully.

“It was good,” he said, distractedly. “I want it all… something like that… and I want it now.”

Without a word, Joanna tilted her hips and caught him at just the right angle. She sank down onto him, and he groaned in pleasure. She rocked her hips, and braced her hands against Brian’s bare chest. As she rode him harder and harder, Brian descended into lust, and grabbed the tails of his shirt, pulling the center apart, separating buttons from fabric. Joanna cried out in surprise and laughed. 

Brian kept one hand on her hips, and the other found her breasts. He pulled his shirt to the side, and watched her appreciatively as she rode him. He thrust into her harder, knowing she wanted it that way, and within seconds she came. She nearly stopped to recover, but Brian gave her hip a squeeze.

“Don’t stop, I’m close,” he said, and she kept up with him. As she felt him grow harder, she felt another orgasm roll in on the heels of the other, and that brought him over with her.

She collapsed into his chest, and pulled him out of her, hissing slightly, settling into the crook of his arm again. The two of them panted.

“I’m not going to be able to sit down for about a day,” Joanna said breathily.

Brian hummed, and kissed the top of her head sympathetically. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I know I’m a bit…” He left it there, too modest to finish.

“ _Much_ ,” Joanna said, looking up at him. “I’ll get used to it,” she said, reassuring Brian.

She stood, and walked towards the bathroom with a slight wobble to her step. Brian stifled a smile, watching her walk away in that semi-ruined state. He put his hands on his face and smiled into them. Three days ago, he never thought he’d be here, but here he was. Infatuated, and bringing Joanna on the road with him… Now all he had to do was convince the band.

And the label.

* * *

Joanna snuck into the house at eleven in the morning, her shoes in hand to minimize sound. She snuck into the back, and tried to bypass the kitchen when she heard a throat clear. 

 _Shit_. Claudia, her mother.

Joanna stopped in her tracks, and turned around to find Claudia sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in front of her, as well as numerous notebooks. Claudia Beach was always planning something. Joanna looked at the open notebook and wondered what charity event was on the docket.

“Hi… mum,” Joanna said, walking over to the kitchen table.

“Oh, hi,” Claudia said with a dry tone. “Care to tell me where you were last night?”

“I left a note, mum,” Joanna said. “I was with Torrance Whitaker. From Oxford?”

Claudia sucked her teeth and crossed her arms. “And if I call Torrance, she’ll tell me you were with her all night?”

Joanna had anticipated this, and had already called Torrance ahead of time. Her alibi was ironclad. But what angered her most is that it shouldn’t have to be.

“Yes, mum,” she said. She turned to leave, but Claudia stopped her.

“Eh eh,” she said, pulling the chair out beside her. “We’ve got to talk about some things, you and I.”

Joanna sighed, and sat down. All she wanted was to take a shower. But she would have to pass this gauntlet before she could.

“What?”

“Your father says you have something to tell me,” Claudia said, clicking her nails on the table.

Joanna blinked, and suddenly remembered how it felt to sing with Brian in the studio booth. How confident she felt.

“Yes,” she said suddenly. “I’m deferring enrollment to Cambridge for a year.”

Claudia looked like she’d been struck. “D-deferring enrollment? You absolutely are not.”

“No mum, I am,” Joanna said, rising from her chair. “I want to work. I want to make something meaningful for myself before I become a slave to the academic world.”

“Academia _is_ something meaningful,” Claudia hollered.

“Yes, mum,” Joanna sighed, “it is. To the thirty people who will read my dissertation. And that’s it. Look… I’m not saying I’m not going. I’m just saying that I hate this gilded fucking cage you’ve built for me.”

“A PhD program is not a gilded cage, Joanna Elizabeth Beach—you know exactly how many women have gone through the history department at Cambridge. _It’s a privilege_. One you worked so hard for.” 

“Yes, mum,” Joanna repeated. “But I need a break. And I’m taking it. Because the only other alternative is that I don’t go at all.”

That silenced Claudia. She swallowed.

“What will you do?” Claudia asked. Joanna could hear her tone. What she really was asking was ‘what will I tell my friends at the country club?’

“I’m gonna go to work for the label,” Joanna said, and put her hand up to stop her mother from asking more questions. “That’s all I’m saying for now mum, but trust me when I say that dad will tell you soon enough.”

Claudia sat there in stony silence, and Joanna gave an exasperated sigh before making her way to the back stairwell by the kitchen. Joanna hoped that Brian was working fast—she wasn’t sure how long she could keep her mother from bombarding her further.

* * *

Three days later

It was one o’clock in the afternoon, and all four members of Queen looked like they were in various stages of waking up. Brian was most alert, practically crackling with the electricity of excitement. John was perfectly content, looking at his fingers, thinking to himself that his fingers were growing a bit soft and would need toughening up before the tour. Freddie lounged in a chair, aviator glasses on and a bottle of beer in his hands. And Roger, was practically still asleep. But they were all here, nonetheless, because they loved Brian and Brian had insisted they meet to discuss the tour. 

Miami walked through the door of his office, and sat down at his desk.

“Alright,” he said, putting his hands up, looking at Brian expectantly. “What was so urgent it couldn’t wait?”

“I want to talk to you all about the tour,” Brian said, sitting on the arm of one of the couches.

“The tour’s planned and ready to go, Brian,” Jim reasoned, still lost.

Brian nodded. “Yes, yes, I know…” Brian said. “I know we’ve got opening acts all lined up, the venues are all booked, all that. But I want you all to listen to something.”

Brian walked over to the tape player on a curio table on the side of the room, and put Joanna’s tape on, and pressed play. Joanna’s voice came through singing ‘Me and Bobby McGee’. The four other men in the room listened a moment, and Brian could see the recognition on Roger and Freddie’s faces. They stifled it, and kept their eyes on Jim.

“She’s good,” John said. “Really good, but what’s it got to do with the tour?”

“Does she sound familiar?” Brian asked, looking mostly at Jim.

Jim’s face was frozen. Brian knew he knew that voice. Jim tented his fingers a moment in contemplation, and then met Brian’s gaze. Brian involuntarily swallowed.

“Where’d you get this?” Jim asked with a serious tone, and the other three members of the band’s eyes widened.

“I had it made,” Brian ventured. “Ken fit us in at Abbey Road.”

Jim gave an exasperated sigh, and rolled his eyes. “I’ll kill that old codger,” he said, and rubbed at his temples.

“It’s all on me, Jim,” Brian said.

Jim’s eyes widened. “So she’s giving up on Cambridge because of _you_?”

Brian shook his head, hoping not to be misunderstood. “She’d already made her mind up, when I took her to the studio… I just wanted to… give her a guiding hand… is all.”

John’s voice pierced the silence. “Okay, I’m lost…” he said, with his signature scrunched up expression.

“It’s Joanna,” Roger explained, shooting him a meaningful glance.

“ _Jim’s_ Joanna?” John asked, and then shook his head. He was going to keep his mouth shut.

Freddie then spoke up, acting as the voice of reason, as he so often did. “Well I think it’s a perfectly good idea. Jim darling, if you’ve ever heard her in that little pub in Covent Garden, you would know exactly what she’s got.” 

Jim sighed. “I _have_ , Fred.”

“What?” Brian asked.

Jim nodded. “She’s been doing this for about three years now. I go every few months, and stand at the back…”

“Why haven’t you—” Brian started.

“Told her?” Jim said, his voice raising. “I didn’t want her getting any silly ideas in her head about being Joan Bloody Baez, that’s why.”

“Well, seems as if it didn’t work, Miami,” Freddie said. “I don’t see why we can’t bring the little songbird out on stage for a few numbers. She wouldn’t even have to be on the marquee.” Freddie looked at Brian and his eyes twinkled. “What do you all say?”

Brian nodded. To Brian’s surprise, Roger did too. John shrugged and said, “don’t suppose it matters what I say anyway, but sure. _If only the boss doesn’t kill us all first_.”

Freddie chuckled. “Oh no, Miami would never do a thing like that.”

Brian stood now, bringing himself to his full height. “She meant it when she said she was deferring enrollment. After this year, she’ll go to Cambridge.”

Jim looked at him incredulously, but Brian was sticking to his guns. Brian had no idea whether or not Joanna had any intention of returning to Cambridge, but his gut told him this was the only way to get Jim to agree to let her go on tour.

“Will you all give us a moment?” Jim said darkly, and rose from his desk. The three other men filed out quickly, shooting Brian sympathetic looks. When the door closed, Brian turned towards Jim.

“That’s where she was the other night?” Jim asked, knowing he didn’t stand nearly as tall as Brian, but knowing his influence was king in this matter. That, and he was a father defending his daughter.

“At the studio, yes,” Brian said, leaving out as much as possible.

Jim’s expression could have killed. Brian’s stomach sank.

“She’s really good, Jim,” Brian reasoned. “And it makes her happy.”

“Don’t presume to tell me what makes my daughter happy,” Jim warned.

Brian sighed, and rubbed at his forehead. He didn’t know what else to say.

Jim was silent a moment longer, and then poured himself a glass of Glenfiddich from a decanter on the curio table. He didn’t ask if Brian wanted one.

“I want your word that none of the shit that happens on tour to find its way on my daughter’s doorstep,” he said into his glass. He drained the two fingers of whiskey in one gulp, and then decided to pour Brian a glass as well. He always did like Brian the best.

“Of course,” Brian said, nodding.

“I swear to you,” Jim said, gesturing with his own glass of whiskey, “if I find out there’s anything going on between you and my daughter, you can find yourself another manager.”

Brian swallowed, and nodded. Brian always considered himself an honest man. A gentleman. But in this, Brian stood his ground, and lied through his teeth.

“Nothing is going on,” he said. “I just think she’s got something.”

Jim mulled this over a moment, and then drank the other two fingers he’d poured himself. He set the crystal glass down forcefully, and buttoned his sport coat.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll make the arrangements,” he said, and then went to his office door, opening it for Brian. Brian scrambled to collect Joanna’s tape, and stopped before Jim at the door.

“Jim,” Brian said. “You won’t regret this.”

“Go, before I change my mind,” he said wearily. When Brian left his office, Jim shut the door with force behind him.

Freddie, Roger and John all stood in the hallway with looks on their faces that said loads. They all walked to the elevator silently, and once inside, the four men stood shoulder to shoulder.

Freddie clapped his hand on Brian’s shoulder, and smirked. “Now that Daddy Miami's given you your spanking... You’ve got some explaining to do, darling.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end! Don't want to spoil anything.

Brian spun his pint of lager, looking across the table in their old favorite pub at his three best friends.

“You can’t tell Jim,” Brian said, pleadingly.

“Oh darling, relax,” Freddie said, “none of us is going to say a word. Are we, boys?”

John breathed in sharply.

“ _Deacy_ ,” Freddie warned.

“If Veronica finds out— _and finds out I knew_ —I’m toast,” he said. “You know she’s friends with Chrissie…”

“Well, then you better hope your skills at keeping secrets are up to snuff, because it’s not up for debate,” Freddie said.

Brian sighed. “Thanks, Fred.”

“And what about you, Roger?” Freddie asked. Roger took a long drag on a cigarette, and considered Brian a moment.

“You know, if I had done what you did with her, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Roger said. “My nuts would be in a jar on the top of Jim Beach’s bookshelf.”

“That’s because it’s you, darling,” Freddie said dismissively.

Roger sighed and shrugged. “Who am I to deny my best friend his happiness?”

Freddie gripped his shoulder. “Good man,” he said.

Roger grumbled, and took another drag. “Can’t say that I blame you,” he said, holding Brian’s gaze. Brian was deciding whether or not to be offended, and decided that was Roger’s way of approving.

“No, she’s positively perfect for you, Brian,” Freddie said, drinking from his pint.

“I just wish… I just wish it didn’t have to be this big secret,” Brian said. “I can’t even get to know her without worrying we’ll get caught. And it’s not just me that gets punished,” Brian said, and suddenly it was all sinking in. The band would get caught in the crossfire.

John was the one to speak up this time. “Look, Brian… you’ve been beating yourself up for the last year over what happened with Chrissie. And before that, you weren’t exactly blissfully happy. I think you deserve a little happiness.”

Brian’s breath caught in his chest, and his love for John swelled.

“So when are you seeing her again?” Freddie asked.

“In a few hours,” he said, scratching behind his ear.

“I do believe our Bri is blushing,” Freddie teased. “She must be good, darling, because I haven’t seen you blush that way for years.”

“Hey now,” Brian said, but without a hint of warning.

“Does she make you happy?” Roger asked seriously, and Brian was surprised it came from him.

Brian considered him a moment, and then nodded. “Yeah. It’s early, but… I think so.”

With the confidence of the boys, Brian left the pub soon after, and walked out to his car on the curb. The boys were hugging their goodbyes when Roger stopped Brian before he opened his car door.

“I’m really happy for you, mate,” he said. Brian could tell there was a weight to Roger’s words. He could see that life was weighing heavily on him.

“You and Dominique will get back together soon—you’ll see,” Brian said.

Roger nodded and sighed. “Let’s hope,” he said. “See you at rehearsals.”

The two hugged, and were on their separate ways.

* * *

Joanna stood before Brian’s door, hand poised to knock, and her heart beat faster with anticipation. When she knocked on Brian’s door, he opened it in a heartbeat, clearly expecting her. It only took a second for her to register the elated expression on his face. 

“Really?” she said.

“Really,” he replied, pulling her into him. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. She looked up at him contentedly, and he leaned down to give her a kiss.

He pulled her into the doorway, and closed the door behind her. They stood that way a while, kissing against the door, when Joanna pressed against Brian’s shoulders. He broke away, looking down at her with a hazy expression.

“Okay, okay,” Joanna said, chuckling. “Tell me what happened…”

Brian smiled, and kissed her forehead, walking her into the living room.

“Okay, I’m listening, but first,” she said, walking to the couch and sitting down heavily. She sighed, and kicked her shoes off like she had been to Brian’s place hundreds of times. “I did a lot of walking today,” she said, registering Brian’s confused expression.

“Where to?” he asked, sitting beside her, encouraging her to put her feet in his lap. She gladly took him up on the offer, but shook her head.

“Nope, you first,” she said.

Brian braced himself, and told Joanna everything that had happened in Jim’s office.

“So… my dad thinks I’m going back to Cambridge next fall?” Joanna repeated calmly.

Brian nodded.

Joanna sighed, and shook her head slightly. “I mean… Could that work? Could I do both?”

Brian thought a moment. Joanna could see him putting himself in her situation.

“I think about how I managed things with my PhD, and I think… if I hadn’t made the choices I did, I could have finished.”

“You could still finish,” Joanna offered.

Brian chuckled, and kissed her knee before leaning over to hover over her face. “We’re not talking about me right now.” He straightened up, and began running his hands along her legs absentmindedly.

Joanna sighed, knowing he was right. She had a way of trying to avoid things.

“If you want to do both, I think you can,” Brian said. “If you do it for the right reasons, I don’t think it could be bad.”

Joanna nodded. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what she _wanted_ … besides wanting to try to be a singer.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Brian said, giving her calf a gentle squeeze. “Now. Are you going to tell me why you were walking so much today?”

Joanna swelled, trying to stifle a smile. “I got my own flat,” she said, and waited for Brian’s reaction.

“You’re joking,” he said, chuckling dryly.

“Totally serious,” she said in disbelief. “I thought if I’m really going to make a go of this, I need to stay out of the nest. Plus, I don’t think I can rely on Torrance Whitaker to be my alibi every time I want to spend a night with you.”

Brian blushed a moment and scratched at his neck. “H-how are you able to…”

“Afford my own flat?” Joanna said, her eyes widening. She blushed a moment, and looked down at Brian’s chest to avoid his gaze. “Being Jim Beach’s daughter affords some privileges, I’m afraid to say… a trust fund being one of them.”

Brian sighed, and ran his hands up Joanna’s thighs absentmindedly. “Joanna, you really didn’t need to get a flat of your own just for me—”

“Hey,” Joanna said, scooting forward so she was nearly sitting in Brian’s lap. “I did this for _me_. So I could give music a real shot. If I stay in that house, my mother will have me turned into her little poppet that she can dress in Hermes and parade around the country club. No, this is what I need to do.”

Brian gave a half smile.

“So, this is really happening,” Brian said. “Then I guess my first order of business is to tell you that we’re meeting for rehearsals tomorrow, and the boys all want you to come. We’re going to work out how you’re going to be incorporated into the show.”

Joanna put her hands over her face, and laid backward on the couch, stifling a small cry. Brian laughed and watched her tense in excitement. While she did so, his hands increased their pressure on her thighs, still draped over his lap.

She recovered, and put her arms over her head, looking at Brian.

“You know,” Joanna said, sighing as his hands traced the same patterns over and over on her thighs, “we do actually need to get to know each other…” She adopted a serious tone. “I do want to take this seriously.”

Brian’s eyebrows raised. “And I don’t? I have something planned for us tonight, my dear,” he said, his hands going higher on her thighs, under her skirt.

She held her breath a moment as Brian neared the hem of her underwear, and sighed in frustration when he caressed back down her legs. He smirked at her reaction.

“What is it?” she managed to ask as Brian’s hands parted her legs slightly one second, and continued to caress her skin another.

“That would spoil the surprise,” he said, one hand coming to rest on her lower abdomen, the other coming to the apex of her thighs, resting over her underwear, which was already soaked.

He sighed and chuckled. “You’re _so wet_ …”

“I’m always wet for you,” Joanna said, her eyes closed, allowing herself to be touched by Brian.

“Always?” he challenged, rubbing at her clitoris over her underwear.

She nodded.

“Tell me,” he said gently, effortlessly moving her panties aside to finally touch her. His fingers glided over her smoothly and she moaned in response, bucking her hips. “Tell me…”

“Th-the night of the party,” she said, grabbing a pillow above her head, holding on for dear life as Brian started to circle her clitoris more quickly.

“When did you first get wet?” he asked with a level voice, but growing harder every second.

“Wh-when you unzipped my dress,” she said, opening her eyes to watch him watch her.

He smiled. “Did you want me to fuck you that night?”

Her breath came in a sharp burst at his words. “ _Yes_ ,” she said, and Brian increased his pressure. Joanna’s hands shot to Brian’s wrist, hoping to hold onto something. He kept up his work.

“ _I_ wanted to fuck you,” he said. “Come for me, Jo.”

Joanna nodded, and in seconds she was coming on Brian’s hands, her eyes filled with stars. He continued to play with her until she came all the way down. When she opened her eyes, she saw Brian put his fingers to his lips and taste her on his fingertips.

“You’re so pretty when you come,” Brian said. She smiled into the back of her hand. 

“What—” she said, her throat sticking slightly. She swallowed and tried again. “What time are we going out?”

“Seven,” he said flatly. Joanna looked over at the wall clock. It read 4:08.

She whimpered helplessly, happily. She sat up, still basically sitting in Brian’s lap, and put her arms around his neck, bringing him in to kiss him. Just then an idea struck her. She pulled back, and took Brian’s hand, bringing his fingers to her lips. The same fingers he had just used on her. She did just what he had done—she tasted herself on his lips, never breaking eye contact as she did so.

She brought one finger further into her mouth, and watched as he sighed, imagining what else she could do with that pretty mouth of hers. She smirked at his reaction, and slowly slid off Brian’s lap, making her way to the floor, where she knelt in front of him. She spread his legs open, and ran her hands up his thighs. She held his gaze while she unbuttoned his pants, and opened them, giving her access to his hardened length. She took him in her hand, and began pumping gently.

He laid back slightly, giving her better access to him, and he sighed in contentment, watching the beautiful auburn haired girl pleasure him.

Her heart started to race—she’d only ever tried this once, and it had gone disastrously. What she was about to ask Brian was bold. How would he take it?

“So last time, you did something for me… _for the first time_ ,” she started. She suddenly felt very vulnerable in front of Brian, and wondered how she had gotten down here, on her knees (lust, she thought absently). Her mouth hung open a moment, the words dead on her lips.

Suddenly, realization dawned on Brian’s face. He put his hand on the side of her face. “Joanna, you don’t have to.”

She shook her head. “I want to,” she said quietly. “And I want you to teach me.”

He exhaled slowly, and nodded. He grabbed a pillow from beside him, and stuffed it between them. “Here,” he said, indicating it should go under her knees. When it was there, Joanna put him back in her hand.

He brought his hand to her face, and rubbed his thumb along her bottom lip gently.

“Just do what feels natural at first,” he said, “and I’ll instruct you from there.”

Joanna nodded, and then looked back at his cock. She leaned into him, delicately ran her tongue along the tip, getting it wet. He inhaled sharply, and Joanna took this as a good sign. It boosted her confidence, and she experimented with taking the tip into her mouth, which got another sound out of him. She started to move her head, and each time she did, she took him further and further into her mouth. His hand went to her hair, and he rested it gently at the back of her head, rubbing his fingers gently into her hair.

She added slight suction next, and he moaned aloud, taking her hair into his hand.

“Fuck, Joanna,” he said, his eyes squeezing shut a moment. When he opened them, he watched her bob up and down on his cock. “Use your hand too, baby,” he said, prompting her for the first time.

She did so, putting it at the base of his cock, following the path of her mouth. She started to get so worked up over this, that her teeth grazed over his cock a moment, and he hissed and bucked his hips a moment.

“No teeth,” he said. He nodded in approval when she went back to what she was doing. He let this go on for another few minutes before he inhaled sharply.

“Joanna, if you don’t stop now, I’m gonna come,” he warned.

She took him out of her mouth. “You don’t want to?” She asked.

He smirked and gave a breathy laugh. “Recovery might take a little while after,” he said, pulling her up into his lap. “And I really, _really_ want to fuck you right now.”

Joanna ground her hips onto his a moment, and then started to get off him so she could take her panties off. “No, no,” he said, stopping her, keeping his hands on her ass. “Stay.”

He took one hand, and put it between them, using it to bunch her panties up, shoving them to the side in an almost feral way, allowing her dampened core to glide over his exposed, hard cock.

He slipped inside her easily, her need for him equal to his own. The two of them moaned at their joining, relishing in being fully clothed, but Brian being inside her. She started to rock her hips, feeling how completely he filled her.

“God, Brian,” she said, nearing an orgasm.

“Come on my cock, baby,” he said, holding her hips tightly while she rode him. At his words, she fell over the edge, spasming on his cock. As she came, he felt how wet she got in that last moment, and he used it to his advantage, thrusting into her harder, knowing she could now take it.

Her orgasm intensified, and she wrapped her arms around his neck for dear life, holding on as he fucked her. She screamed aloud in intense pleasure, letting him join her on the other side of pleasure. He moaned deeply as he spilled into her. She was merely along for the ride, and she panted as he slowly stopped thrusting.

She trembled in his arms when he stopped, utterly ruined. He wrapped his arms around her back, and held her as he panted into her shoulder.

After several moments of recovery, she still couldn’t pull away from him, but she spoke into his ear.

“Brian May,” she panted. “You’ve completely ruined me for other men,” she said, and chuckled weakly. He panted, closed his eyes and smiled deeply.

That was the whole idea.

* * *

Brian coasted down the stretch of road towards their destination, his hand on Joanna’s thigh, affectionately caressing her skin with his thumb. 

“You still won’t tell me where we’re going?” Joanna asked, knowing the answer would be no.

Brian kept his eyes on the road, but he chuckled and shook his head, his curls shaking with it. Joanna grumbled in feigned frustration, but she loved it.

“So, is this our first date?” she asked, her eyebrow raising at him.

Brian scrunched his face a moment, and chanced a glance over at her. “I believe so,” he said, falsely incredulous. “Good thing we’re getting around to it now before our fortieth wedding anniversary.”

Joanna smiled and shook her head. When they slowed, Joanna recognized the locale. They were at Queen Mary University.

“What are we doing at Queen Mary?” she asked, uneasy.

Brian parked the car, and his face lit up. “There’s a lecture tonight I thought you might like,” he said. He exited the car, and opened her door for her, seeing as she was completely frozen. She snapped herself out of it though, and joined Brian in the walk towards the building in the night air.

“How did you…”

“Find out?” Brian asked, taking Joanna’s hand, and interlacing his fingers with hers. “I read about it in the paper. This guy’s supposed to be a lead expert in your field.”

Joanna stopped in her tracks.

“Brian, who are we seeing tonight?” she asked.

“Alan Stein,” Brian said, beaming.

Joanna’s heart skipped a beat. “Alan _Stein_?”

“Yeah, he’s visiting from Harvard,” he said. He pulled her along, satisfied in her dumbstruck reaction.

“ _Ohhh my god_ ,” Joanna said lightly, and Brian laughed, kissing the back of her hand as they entered the building, making their way through the hallway to the auditorium. The place was already half full, and they found their way towards one of the front-most rows. They sat down, and Joanna watched as people quickly filled seats. She had a feeling it was going to be standing room only soon.

“Brian, you know you don’t have to bring me to something like this—I mean, I know you’re not a historian at all,” Joanna babbled.

Brian put his hand on hers, interlacing their fingers again. “Joanna, it’s important to you—this is your subject. And it’s a part of your culture I want to understand.”

Joanna’s breath caught in her chest, and she nearly cried. The Beach family’s Jewishness was so Anglicized that often people forgot they were, in fact, Jewish. Their customs were observed quietly and modestly at certain times of the year, but for all intents and purposes, they were as assimilated as they could get. Joanna swelled with affection for Brian, and pressed a kiss to his lips quickly, before pulling away to look at the growing crowd.

She thought absently on what she was leaving behind this year, trying to be a singer. This life, the life of an academic called to her soul just as much as music. _Could_ she really have both?

She was brought from her thoughts by her name being called. She looked around for the source of the voice, and found it easily. It was her advisor from Oxford. Of course he was here.

Joanna’s heart beat faster at being recognized, but she smiled nonetheless—she had to admit, she knew she would miss the squirrelly professor who’d become her favorite over the years.

“Joanna,” he said, walking down the aisle and stopping before where she and Brian sat. Joanna was then intensely aware of the fact that Brian was still holding her hand, rested in his lap.

“Professor Shapiro,” she said, brightening at his presence. Brian thought to himself that he loved seeing Joanna this way. He stifled a smile. Joanna rose to greet her professor, and Brian was shocked when her greeting was not a handshake, but a hug instead.

“Oh, what a wonderful thing to see you here,” he said in his mildly German-tinged accent. He pulled back and looked at her. “So! I am dying to know who your friend is,” he said, looking at Brian, who stood to greet the man who stood much shorter than him.

“Professor, this is Brian May,” she said, putting a hand on Brian’s shoulder. Brian put his hand out and shook Shapiro’s hand.

“Ah, are you a historian yourself, Mister May?” the professor asked, without a hint of recognition registering on his face. He had no idea who Brian was. Joanna knew this, and decided to have a little fun.

“Er, Brian is an astrophysicist,” Joanna interjected, speaking for Brian.

Shapiro’s face lit up. “Delightful! Do you teach?” he asked, and she watched as Brian followed the rouse.

“No, not at the moment,” he said.

“Tell me, what is your subject,” Shapiro asked, a courtesy extended from one academic to another.

“Interplanetary dust,” Brian said, and Joanna could see his face light up. He wasn’t being fawned over for being Brian May, rock star, but was being treated seriously as Brian May, astrophysicist.

“How fascinating,” Shapiro said earnestly. “Wonderful you are here tonight for Doctor Stein’s talk. Now, before I sit down, Joanna, tell me if what I’ve heard is true—are you deferring for a year before going to Cambridge?”

Joanna bit the inside of her lip. “Yes, professor.”

He rebuked her playfully with a look.

“I’ve got a project I’m working on for the next year,” she said, and he conceded.

“Well, as long as you aren’t letting that wonderful mind of yours atrophy, all will be well,” he said. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my seat now, but it would be an honor if you would join us for a drink afterward.”

“Yes, thank you, professor,” Joanna said, and at that, they parted and took their seats.

Brian sat a moment trying not to laugh. “Astrophysicist?” he asked, not looking at her.

“You loved it, and you know it,” she said, taking his hand in hers.

They sat and listened to Doctor Stein lecture on the history of Jews in the Iberian Peninsula and their roots that extended all the way into the New World. Brian followed little of it, but he checked Joanna’s expression every so often to see her rapt by Stein’s talk. Brian thought two things—Joanna was one of the most passionate people he’d ever met, and that it broke his heart that he might be tearing her away from something that clearly made her happy.

Near the end of the lecture, he satisfied himself by reminding himself that he had a year to help her work out a way to do both. As Stein finished his lecture, and the audience applauded him, Brian made up his mind that by the end of their year, he would have her convinced she could do both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you all think I'd leave you without some smut? No way, fam. I got you.
> 
> Also, I just felt like making the Beaches Jewish? Yes, I might have been drawing on my own life a little bit for this portion, but can you blame me? They say to write what you know. I don't think it's going to be a big part of the story. I just wanted to give Joanna a little more dimension.
> 
> As always, your comments are AMAZING and I LIVE for them! They inspire me to keep going.


	8. Chapter 8

When Joanna awoke in Brian’s bed, she felt so contented she could have stayed in bed for a whole week. Her skin was bare against his soft sheets, and she looked over at Brian, still sleeping. His bare back was exposed to view as he had his arms up and hooked around his pillow.

The sun was just now rising, and Joanna was already wide awake. She thought about their sleeping habits, and found it endearing that Brian was a late sleeper. She wondered how long he would sleep if left to his own devices. But she imagined this was how it was for successful musicians. She wondered if things would change for her, and she would start sleeping later.

Just when she thought Brian was out cold, he spoke, his eyes still closed.

“It’s not polite to stare,” he said groggily.

Joanna giggled lightly, and hugged her own pillow.

“And it’s much too early to be laughing like that, missy,” he said, opening his eyes, and hooking an arm around her waist, pulling her to him. This only made her giggle once more, ever so lightly.

He hummed contentedly as Joanna nestled into his chest, her head tucked into his neck.

“God, I love waking up next to you,” Brian said, and kissed the top of her head.

She looked up at him. “I’ll make a morning person out of you yet.”

“Is that a threat?” Brian asked, rolling her over onto her back, settling in between her legs, gazing into her eyes blearily.

“Well, I’ll try using the carrot first, but the stick might have to come out eventually,” she said, bringing one leg up to caress his side.

“You’ll have me spoiled,” he said, shifting his hips so Joanna felt his hardness against her thigh. “I’ll come to want it every morning. What am I going to do when we’re not together in the mornings?”

“A little delayed gratification never hurt anyone,” she said, and his eyebrow raised a bit.

“Is that so?” he said, and there was something in his tone that excited Joanna.

She nodded. He shifted so he could fit one hand between them, and felt at her core, already wet with desire for him. She opened her mouth and let out a sigh as he ran his fingers along her folds, spreading her wetness even more. When he was satisfied with that, he circled her clitoris, and intensified pressure when she arched her back and mewled in pleasure.

She rocked her hips back and forth, and when she took in a breath and held it in, the telltale sign she was about to come, Brian withdrew his hand, and rolled away from her. She whimpered at the loss of his touch. It took her a second to recover, and she watched as he rose from the bed, his cock hard.

“Wha… what are you doing?” she said, rolling towards the edge of the bed, trying to get closer.

“You said it yourself, love,” he said, and paused at the doorway to his attached master bathroom, “a little delayed gratification never hurt anyone.”

He left her there, mouth agape, and started the shower.

She rose in frustration, and stalked after him. He was already in the shower, wetting his hair and face. She entered the shower, and pressed herself to his front.

“Are you really going to leave me like this?” she asked, taking his hand, and putting it to her core. He smiled, and cupped her there, bringing his lips to hers in a sweet kiss.

“It’s not always like this for me,” he said, suddenly sounding sincere, no longer teasing her. “But I find myself wanting to do things with you that… You just bring out a side in me I didn’t know existed.”

Joanna put her hands on Brian’s wet torso. “What side is that?” She was genuinely curious.

He smiled and shrugged, chuckling a bit. “I don’t know, but I think I like it… and if you’re willing, I’d like to see where it takes us.”

Joanna swallowed, a bit nervous about the prospect.

“Brian, I might seem like I know what I’m doing with you, but… I don’t have a lot of experience in this. I wouldn’t know how to… oh, _I don’t know_ ,” she said, suddenly turning away from him, letting the shower-spray fall on her chest.

Brian wrapped his arms around her, and held her to him. “Hey,” he said gently in her ear, “any time you don’t like something, just tell me. And it wouldn’t always be like it was just now. Joanna, I’m just so happy to have you in the first place. I want you comfortable, or not at all.”

She nodded, still not ready to face him.

“I want you any way I can have you,” he said. “Come back to me,” he whispered in her ear.

She melted at that, and turned to face him, her hair now under the spray.

“Ok, Brian,” she said.

“Ok, as in…” Brian started, delicately.

“Ok, as in… _ok_ ,” she said, cracking a smile. Her heart fluttered at the thought of what sex could be with Brian. It had already been so mind-blowing and spontaneous, she couldn’t imagine it getting any better. With any other man, she might have been opposed to the idea entirely. But it was _Brian_. And that made all the difference in the world.

* * *

Freddie and Roger sat smoking twin cigarettes, both from Freddie’s pack, listening to John tune his bass. The hall they occupied accepted the sound perfectly as it cast out from the amplifier. 

“That a new song, Deacy? Not sure it’s quite strong enough.” Freddie teased, and John shot him a glance and rolled his eyes watching Freddie cast a sideways look at Roger, who shook his head at Freddie. Two years ago and Roger would have been at Fred’s throat, but now that their bad blood was under the bridge, it merely cemented their bond as brothers.

Just then, the doors to the small performance hall opened up, and Brian and Joanna entered separately, each carrying their own instrument cases. Brian’s twelve-string in one hand, his Red Special in the other, and Joanna carried her Martin acoustic in one hand.

The band greeted them with various cries, all meant for Joanna. She blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear. They set down their instruments, and Roger, John and Freddie each hugged Joanna hello in turn.

“Hello love,” Freddie said, loudly enough that everyone heard, “how’s your father?”

Joanna flushed at the euphemism that essentially meant ‘how’s the sex’. She pulled back slightly, but Freddie held onto her waist. She lightly hit his shoulders. “ _Fred_!” she admonished.

He laughed and pulled her closer by way of apology. “Sorry darling,” he said, and then let her go. They watched as Brian set about taking the guitars out of their cases, and setting them on their respective stands. Roger started tuning his own drums, and Deacy plucked out a few nonsense notes.

“You _are_   glowing though,” Freddie said, only that Joanna might hear.

“Yeah?” she asked. He nodded, and then looked at Brian.

“And he looks better,” Freddie said, a wistful expression on his face. “ _So much_   better.”

Joanna smiled and watched Brian dreamily as he dusted his hands off on his jeans, looking to Freddie and Joanna.

“Well,” Freddie said, speaking to everyone. “I suppose we ought to have a little meeting about all this, then.”

The band got quiet, and waited for Freddie to continue.

“Brian, this was all your idea, so why don’t you tell us what you had in mind?” Freddie said, surprising Brian.

Brian’s eyebrows raised a moment. “Well…” he said. “Joanna, I don’t want to speak for you, so correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think all our songs are quite her speed.”

Joanna put her hands in her back pockets and shook her head. “I’m no Debbie Harry.”

Brian nodded, and continued. “Then I’d like to bring you out for a few numbers.”

“Like our secret weapon,” Freddie offered. John smirked at the ground.

“What songs?” Roger asked from behind his drum set.

Brian scratched his neck, obviously worried he might be asking for too much. “‘Who Wants to Live Forever’, and ‘Love of My Life’?”

“That’s all?” Freddie asked sarcastically, a mischievous smile on his face. “Or, we could just put a spotlight on you two, and let you go at it for five minutes while the rest of us take a break. Same idea.”

Joanna’s eyes widened, and her face flushed crimson. She marched over to where Freddie stood.

“Freddie Mercury,” she threatened, grabbing at his arms, not knowing how to hide her embarrassment.

He laughed, and shielded himself from the playful blows that came his way. The rest of the band laughed. Freddie spun her around and wrapped his arms around hers, pinning them to her body, making her laugh as well.

“Alright, alright,” he said, kissing her cheek from behind. “What do you say, Rog, Deacy?”

They both shrugged, and just like that, the band was all in agreement. The band set about getting their instruments ready. Joanna hung back, and took a seat in a chair off to the side, knowing the band was going to practice in the order of the set list for the Magic tour. Her heart swelled when Brian’s eyes met hers, and he gave a half smile.

He tested the tuning of the Red Special, and when all of the boys nodded at each other, Brian strummed out the first unmistakable power chords of ‘One Vision’.

* * *

After a few hours of practice, everyone was tired, and ready for a break, but in the best way possible. Freddie sat with a towel draped around his neck as everyone started unplugging instruments and switching off amps before they got dinner. 

Joanna stood up and started helping wherever she could.

Freddie cleared his throat, and looked over at the band. “I suppose…” he started, and everyone looked over at him. “I suppose you know by now that… I’m not going to be able to do this forever.”

The three other men were silent, stony looks on their faces. Joanna looked at each of them, confused, but listened still.

“Run around on stage I mean,” Freddie explained. “Besides, it would get ridiculous at some point anyway.”

It was John who spoke up first. His breath came shallow, and Joanna could see he was fighting some emotion. “What are you saying, Fred?”

“I’m saying,” Fred started delicately, “that I can’t tour anymore.”

“We already had this conversation, Fred,” Roger said, his blood rising a bit.

“No, no,” Freddie said, his face contorted in mortification that he’d been misunderstood. “No, I don’t mean _the band_. I want us to keep making music. I just mean… _before_ , I always came back from each tour so tired. I lost weight. And my doctors say that _now_ —I can’t afford that. But I want to give them one hell of a show this time.”

Joanna felt lost, but she had a feeling she knew what Freddie was talking about. It was all over the news, and she had always worried that Freddie might fall down that path.

“What do you mean, ‘now’?” Joanna asked, her heart rate speeding up a little.

Roger, Brian and John were silent. It wasn’t their secret to tell. Freddie gave a sad smile.

Freddie walked over to her, and the look on his face told her everything. Her breathing picked up and tears welled in her eyes. If it was anyone else, Freddie would have told her to stop, but it was Joanna Beach. He had thought of her as his own niece, watching her grow from a very young age into the woman who stood before him.

“Freddie,” she whispered. Her lip quivered a moment, and she looked at the three other men in the room, each of whom was trying to keep his emotions in check in his own way. John looked up, and turned away when a tear fell from his eyes. Roger crossed his arms, and stared at the floor. Brian pushed one hand deep into his pocket, the other coming up to the stubble that had begun to form on his face. He watched Joanna’s eyes, and it was that that did her in. She contorted her eyebrows in sadness, and blinked out twin tears.

Freddie pulled her to him, and shushed her. “I’m fine,” he said with a level voice. “I’m alright. No need for that.” He pulled away, and thumbed her tears away for her. He looked over at the other men in the room, and sighed.

“I swear if I have to do this again, I’ll divorce the lot of you,” he said, and drew an arm around Joanna’s shoulders. “I think we all need a drink with our dinner. Again,” he said, causing Roger, Brian and John to laugh.

She took a deep breath and nodded, following Freddie’s lead.

* * *

Joanna thought absently that if the boys kept making her laugh the way she was, her stomach was going to hurt tomorrow. She wiped tears away from her face, and listened as Roger explained a very embarrassing mishap at one of their concerts. 

“So all three of them show up to the same show,” he said, referring to the three girlfriends who showed up to the same concert. Roger had been too drunk to remember which girl he’d invited which night, and found out later he’d invited them all for the same night.

“So what did you do?” Joanna asked, recovering a bit.

Roger laughed breathily into his pint. “I went home with whichever one wasn’t the maddest,” he said, and drank from his beer while the rest of them laughed at his shamelessness.

Brian put his hand on Joanna’s leg, and tucked his fingers lightly between her crossed legs. He ran his thumb along her leg affectionately while he listened to Roger, Freddie and Deacy.

He looked over at Joanna and spoke low. “You did really well today,” he said.

“Yeah?” she asked, her chin propped on her hand.

“Yeah,” he said. He leaned forward, and Joanna’s heart beat faster. He kissed her lips lightly, and pulled away, his eyes soft and a small smile on his face.

Just then, a sound all-too-familiar to Brian’s ears grew louder, and before their table stood four eager girls, pens and notepads in hand. The boldest of the four spoke for them all, and asked for autographs.

The boys’ faces changed almost immediately. They had been open and carefree, and now Joanna could see the polite expressions they all wore as they each mumbled agreement and passed around the papers to sign. Joanna’s face grew hot as each of the girls in turn gave her a quizzical look, sizing her up, and gauging her proximity to Brian. When they had gone, all of the men of Queen sighed, and fished out wallets, putting notes down on the table.

“We’ve been found out,” Freddie explained to Joanna. “We’d better go before the press come.”

Joanna’s stomach dropped. Was that something that happened? She hadn’t even considered that as a possibility since starting to see Brian, but she was now confronted with that reality nonetheless. She rose with the rest of them, and they all filed out of the pub, and made their way to the sidewalk. It was almost dark out, and they all started their walk to the venue to finish rehearsing, the mood noticeably changed. Somehow it made Joanna sad. What had life been like for them over the past decade?

When they thought they might get away unnoticed, a male voice carried their way.

“Brian! Brian!” A few snaps of a camera came, taking them all by surprise. Joanna’s back was turned, and when she turned to see the man carrying a camera, her stomach dropped.

“Brian, care to comment on your recent separation from your wife?” he asked, and Joanna could see Brian’s face turning scarlet with anger.

“My comment is ‘piss off,’” he said, and then looked at Joanna with a fleeting, helpless look.

Roger read this immediately, and swooped in, taking Joanna by the shoulders, putting his arm around her, trying to prevent any photos of Brian and Joanna being taken. He led the charge, and Freddie and John formed the buffer between Brian and Joanna.

“Roger, wait—” Joanna said, worried for Brian.

“Just keep walking, love,” Roger said, and pulled her along.

Still, the photographer followed, and asked the wrong question. “Who’s the girl, boys? Who’s she with?” he asked, craning his neck to get a good look. When he couldn’t get one, Brian turned on his heels, and put his hand on the photographer’s chest.

“ _Piss off_ , mate,” he said, and planted his feet.

“I’m just trying to do my job,” he said, obviously prepared for some push back, smirking as he said it. But he stayed put, after looking at the expression on Brian’s face.

Satisfied the photographer wouldn’t follow, Brian caught up with the rest of the group, and walked into the rehearsal venue silently fuming.

When Joanna turned around to approach Brian, Roger caught her hand, and pulled her back to him. She looked at Roger in confusion.

“Let him cool off,” he said, and nodded to Brian, who stood with his hands on his hips, staring at the floor. “Come on, Jo.”

Joanna followed him into the rehearsal hall where their instruments waited for them, and her heart felt like it was beating rapid fire. A thought occurred to her, even in the haze of adrenaline.

“Roger, what if the press says I was with you?” she asked, thinking of Dominique and Roger’s strained relationship.

Roger shook his head and sat on a stray chair. He sighed and shook his head. “When I explain to Dominique that it was _you_ , she’ll understand. And when I explain that _you and Brian_ are together, not us.”

Joanna swallowed the lump in her throat, and willed herself to wait patiently while Brian paced around in the entryway.

It was Freddie who got to Brian first. He put his arms around his friend’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

“Come on, dear, it’s fine,” Freddie said.

“How could I be so stupid, Fred?” Brian said, more upset than Freddie had seen him in a long time.

“How do you mean, Brian?” John asked, close by.

“I mean,” Brian said, a pained expression on his face. “Bringing my shit down on her.”

John chuckled. “She’s tougher than she looks, Brian.”

“But it’s not just her that gets caught in the crossfire—it’s all of you too,” Brian reminded them. “If Miami finds out, he’s going to quit.”

Freddie smiled. “Brian, with what I’ve just told you, do you really think that we need a manager after this tour? I mean a _real_ manager?”

Brian was silent. With Queen not touring after the Magic tour, all they would be doing was recording. But it was likely that so many other bad things could happen if news of Joanna and Brian escaped before either of them were ready. Jim could cut Joanna’s trust fund off, forcing her to return to school prematurely. And Chrissie could find out he was dating someone sixteen years his junior. And god only knew what she was capable of. She still would barely let Brian see their kids.

Brian’s silence spurred John to speak. “What do you want to do, Brian?” he asked, ever the voice of reason. “End it with her?” he added, incredulously.

Brian’s eyes widened. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him.

“God no,” Brian said. He felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on him.

“Well, if you don’t march your arse into that hall and tell her that, you’re a twat,” he said, his hands on his hips. “Everything has a solution, Brian. But you have to include her.”

Brian gulped. John was right. He was being a twat. And sure enough, when he got into the hall and saw Joanna sitting with Roger, his heart fell. She looked worried. He’d never seen her like that before.

Her eyes were glassy, but she hadn’t shed any tears. She stood, hoping Brian was ready to talk to her. She looked like she was bracing for the worst. He couldn’t bear to let her spend another minute in that kind of agony, so he did the only thing he could think of to reassure her—he made a beeline for her, and pulled her into his arms. She relaxed instantly, and closed her eyes as Brian’s hands found the back of her head, and her back.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly. He pulled back to look down at her.

She looked up at him, and nodded, still visibly shaken.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and shook his head. “I didn’t think that would happen so soon, I… selfishly thought we would get a little bit more peace before the tour started.”

“It really only happens when we’re all together,” Freddie reasoned, lighting a cigarette before sitting on one of the steps down to the room. “But we really should talk about how we’re going to keep you two a secret. For now.”

Joanna pulled away from Brian to speak with everyone in the room, but Brian kept contact with her, his hand on her hip. But it was Brian who spoke before Joanna had a chance.

“I’m sorry this has come down on all of you,” Brian said. “But John’s right—there’s a solution for everything.” He gave a half smile, directed at John, who returned it.

“Brian, whatever it is,” Roger said, twirling his drumstick once. “We’ll all do our part. Lord knows you all have covered for me enough times.”

The three other men gave breathy laughs.

“We’re not going to fix this tonight,” John said, picking his bass up, and slinging it over his shoulder. “You two just tell us what you want us to do, and we’ll do it. Right?” He looked over at Freddie and Roger.

The two of them nodded. Joanna’s heart warmed. Brian held her hand tighter.

“Now,” Freddie said, raising his eyebrows at Brian. “Let’s get a few more songs banged out before we all go home.”

Brian nodded, and just like that, another corner had been turned.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait! Adult hiccups, yada yada... But I tried to put something down every other day, and here's what I've got for you! Things are progressing right along. Let me know what you guys think! I appreciate every one of your wonderful comments!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, an update!? I really wanted to get to this story earlier. But life and things get in the way. Please let me know what you think. Comments keep me motivated to finish!

In the weeks preceding the start of the Magic tour, the boys practiced, and Joanna came to every session. She didn’t always sing or play with Brian or Freddie, but she sat somewhere, and quietly wrote song lyrics in her journal. Being with Brian had stoked a creative fire in her, and she practically glowed when they worked with each other, or even just existed around each other.

“Come on,” Brian pleaded one night while they were in bed, mindlessly strumming on his twelve string guitar, dressed only in jeans, and Joanna scratching away in her notebook. “Please?”

Joanna bit her lip, considering him a moment before shaking her head and giggling with embarrassment.

“I’ll get that journal, just you watch,” he teased with a low growl, and set the guitar down on the bed before crawling up the bed to pretend he was going to take it away from her.

“No, don’t you dare,” she said, and squirmed away from him, but he was too fast. He grabbed her leg, and pulled her down to him. She squealed and laughed, holding the journal above her head.

“Or what?” Brian challenged, coming up above her, boxing her in, supporting himself on both hands pinned on either side of her.

“Consequences,” she said, throwing the journal off the bed, onto the floor.

“Hmmm, it’s sweet you think you can punish _me_ ,” he said, letting _that_ side of himself come out a little.

“Brian, I can’t,” Joanna pleaded, a serious undertone in her voice.

“Yes you can, baby,” he said, lowering his hips to rest between her legs. “You’re so talented.”

“I can’t write melodies, Brian,” she said, trying not to pout.

“ _I can_ ,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her lips gently. “You know, Elton can’t write lyrics to save his life. Just the melodies. But he’s brilliant, just like you are. Just one song, baby…” he said, thrusting his hips up into hers, the fabric that separated them now a source of frustration for Joanna.

She groaned and huffed. She could feel the walls around her crumbling—Brian had a very disarming affect on her. With Brian she was safe.

“After,” Joanna said, tugging at the front of Brian’s jeans, trying to undo the first button.

He chuckled and kissed her neck. “Call it motivation,” Brian said, and pulled away from her, sitting beside her. She whimpered at the loss of him. She chuckled and sighed, putting her hands over her eyes a moment, before leaning off the bed precariously to grab her journal.

She flipped through the pages, her nervousness clear as day on her face. The corner of her mouth twitched a few times as she considered which song she would let Brian read. She settled on one, and took a deep breath before handing it over to Brian.

He stifled a smile, and read the lyrics. As he reached the end, he smirked and looked up at her. “How do you hear it?”

Joanna shrugged. “I don’t. That’s my problem.”

Brian nodded. “Well how did you feel when you wrote it?”

 _In love_ was what she wanted to say. But so early in their relationship, she wasn’t sure Brian was where she was. So, she settled for something less.

“Like… like my skin was too tight for my body,” she said. “And I would just shatter with the lightest touch.”

He nodded, propping the journal open in front of him. He reached for his twelve-string guitar, and kept his eyes on the lyrics on the open page. He strummed out a few chords, and after a moment, began humming notes. Before too long, he was singing the lyrics as he heard them. And that was it. Joanna’s poem became a song. Her eyes widened as she listened to Brian. After going through the chorus and first verse, he nodded to Joanna, inviting her to join him.

She flushed crimson, and sang along with Brian, tentatively adding harmony. His face lit up as their voices joined in harmony. He kept playing, and let Joanna finish the song.

When he’d finished, he paused, watching Joanna’s face.

Joanna nodded to herself, and looked down at Brian’s guitar before shedding a tear. “It’s a song now,” she said happily, smiling and wiping away the tear.

Brian set the guitar down on the carpeted floor, propping it up on the bed, and crawled up to join Joanna at the head of the bed.

“That’s the song we sing on stage,” Brian said, brushing the hair away from Joanna’s face.

“Brian, I…” Joanna started, and Brian’s lips met hers in a gentle kiss. Even this early in their relationship, Brian had begun to anticipate Joanna’s anxiety.

Brian pulled away from her when she had relaxed a bit. “You want to make this career real, right?” he asked.

She nodded.

“You can’t make it real if it’s not _your songs_.”  

Joanna said nothing, but searched his eyes.

“We’re gonna do this right,” he said, mindlessly tracing the skin on her neck with his fingertips.

“No Queen songs?” Joanna said, her stomach doing a somersault. Was it Brian’s touch or the thought of putting her own music out for the world to scrutinize? She wasn’t sure.

Brian shook his head smirked, and placed a lingering kiss on Joanna’s collarbone. “You need to trust me.”

“I trust you,” Joanna whispered, and closed her eyes. “Though I don’t know how I’m going to play that riff you play in the bridge… My fingers are half the length of yours.” She took Brian’s hand from her neck, and placed her palm against his, measuring the length of her fingers against his.

Brian watched her gazing at his hands, and couldn’t wait any longer.

“You mean these fingers?” he asked, taking his hand away, and placing it between her legs, sliding her nightshirt up her lap as he found her core.

She let out a shuddering sigh. “Mhmm,” she managed as Brian explored her body tentatively.

“I can show you a shortcut, or some chord replacements…” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her briefly.

“But I wonder… if you may be right. I mean… they are pretty long—” he said, as he pushed his middle and ring finger into her, not stopping until he was up to the last knuckle. She opened her mouth to moan, and it came out stuttered and strangled. Brian had done this to her before… but never like _this_. Never with this kind of intensity.

“And do you know what else you can do with long fingers?” he asked, waiting for a reply.

She swallowed, her mouth going dry, and was only able to shake her head, making eye contact through hooded eyes. He gave a half smirk, and curved his fingers upwards, massaging a spot deep inside her that she’d only ever half explored.

“Fuck, _Brian_!” Joanna cried, and held onto his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. He chuckled and hummed in a self-satisfied fashion. She started to tilt her hips to meet his movements, and every time she felt she was getting close, Brian would slow his pace, or his pressure.

It made her ache inside, and she whined in protest. “Brian, p… please let me come.”

“And stop playing with this pretty, tight little pussy? When you make such beautiful little noises when I do things like this,” he said, bringing his thumb to her clitoris, making her yelp.

“Bri, _please_!” Joanna said, and grabbed at the waist of his jeans, feeling the head of his already-hard cock, pressed precariously against his abdomen.

“I love how impatient you get,” he said, and quickened his pace, knowing he was pushing her over the edge now. He inched down the bed, keeping his fingers inside her, massaging her g-spot as his tongue found her clitoris. She stifled a moan and clamped her hand over her mouth.

“No, baby, let me hear,” he said briefly, before quickening his pace with his fingers, matching pace with his tongue.

She forced herself to take her hand away, and whined as she came right to the edge. “Bri, oh god, _Brian_ ,” she said a few times, a mantra, a prayer to the god who was playing her better than he’d ever played the Red Special.

He moaned, hearing his name on her lips, and at that vibration, Joanna came, and parted her legs even more. Brian brought her down all the way, and anticipated when she would be too sensitive for him, pulling away. As she lay shaking and panting, Brian quickly removed his jeans, and found his place between her legs.

He kissed her, and she tasted herself on him. He wanted to wait for her to be ready for him, so he positioned himself so that his hard length rested flat against her core. He moved his hips back and forth, coating himself in the wetness he had left behind. He let out a low sigh, enjoying the sensation as he waited for her to recover fully.

“ _Brian_ ,” she whispered, and took his face in her hands, sultry and appreciative in her tone.

He tentatively paused at her entrance, tilting his hips slightly so all he had to do was move to be inside her. He supported himself on his elbows, and brushed his nose against hers affectionately.

She smiled and let him give her small, goading kisses. She loved this game they played sometimes. Sometimes it was her in control, and sometimes it was him, pressing the boundaries. And now it was her turn to give the green light.

“Now you get to beg,” Joanna said, and tilted her hips slightly, catching him enough that he went in just a bit, before she pulled away, breaking contact.

Brian sighed, and gripped the sheets as his arms began to shake from anticipation.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” Joanna whispered, running both of her hands down Brian’s back, coming to rest on his ass.

He laughed breathily. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he said.

“Tell me,” she said, and gripped his backside, pulling him dangerously close to being inside her.

“God, I get hard when I even just _look_ at you,” he said. “And when you’re not here… I haven’t wanked this much since I was a teenager.”

Joanna giggled, and reached between them with one hand, grabbing his cock. “Poor baby,” she said. “What kind of girlfriend am I, that I let that happen?”

At that, they both realized what she’d said. The ‘girlfriend’ word, a declaration of sorts. And by the look they both shared, neither of them objected to it. Brian’s face contorted into a genuine smile.

“The worst kind,” he said, and then breathily laughed. “Love, put me out of my misery.”

Joanna bit her lip, and pulled Brian into her quickly, and they both cried out at their coupling. After they had a chance to recover, Brian began to move, but he was more tender and sweet than their foreplay had been. As they both reached the edge, Brian struggled with the words he wanted to say.

He had envisioned how he would tell Joanna he was falling in love with her, and this was not the way. He kept his mouth shut, and as he came, trembling in Joanna’s arms, any doubt he had was now gone. This was what love felt like.

* * *

Joanna fidgeted with her Scrabble tiles as their plane flew through the first hour of their flight to Stockholm. She hadn’t flown much, but when she did, she always got anxious. Brian placed his hand on the small of her back, rubbing gentle circles. She gave him a warning look. They were still a secret that only Freddie, John, and Roger knew about. Joanna had her doubts about whether or not their relationship really was secret—the looks they got from various people in The Magic Tour production, crew, and more, were enough to set Joanna’s skin ablaze 

Bri held his hand up in defeat, and gave her a mocking look. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Oh just get in the loo and shag it out already,” Freddie murmured into his tiles, plopping his words down on the board.

Joanna’s mouth gaped. Freddie challenged her with a look.

“I will not…” Joanna looked around “— _shag_ —in a bloody airplane bathroom.”

“Give it time, love,” Roger said dismissively, counting up Freddie’s points on a notepad.

Joanna looked at the men at the table—Freddie, Roger, Brian—and waited for one of them to crack.

“What, _all of you_?”

None of them spoke up, but each of them looked guilty in his own way. Joanna swallowed, and tried to push past the niggling feeling in the back of her mind, picturing Brian in an airplane bathroom with… who? With Chrissie? With the other woman?

She had so far avoided being jealous of Chrissie… mostly. And she couldn’t say she was jealous of the other woman, whatever her name had been, but then thinking of that made her sad in a totally different way.

She considered her tiles, and with a sigh put down the first word she could make up, and got out of her seat.

“I’ll be right back,” Joanna said, walking away from the cluster of seats.

“Loo’s on the right, love,” Roger shouted.

“ _Sod off_!” Joanna threw back over her shoulder, and closed the folding door behind her.  She leaned against the counter and breathed deeply.

Her feelings for Brian were clearly more intense than she had been telling herself. Once she looked in the mirror, she noticed her flushed appearance, and splashed water on her face. She patted her face with the scratchy paper napkins, and before she felt totally composed, a knock came at the door. Her stomach lurched. Did Brian think this was an invitation?

She took a steadying breath, ready to give him a proper telling off for following her back—this was not the definition of subtle.

But when she opened the door, it was Fred on the other side.

“Scoot over, lovie,” Freddie said, shoving his way in.

“Fred, what the hell are you—” Jo started, but Freddie held up his hand once he had closed and locked the door.

“What’s going on?” he asked, crossing his arms

“It’s nothing…”

“It’s not nothing if you’re in a strop in an airplane toilet,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Joanna grumbled, and hitched her hip a bit. “I never get jealous.”

Freddie almost squealed. The sound he made was close enough. He took Joanna by the hips and shook her a bit.

“Are you in love?” Freddie asked, only half serious. But at the look on Joanna’s face, he sobered a bit.

“Oh darling,” he said, and held both her hands. “The jealousy will pass. He’s crazy about you, Jo. I _never_ saw him this way with Chrissie.”

“Really?” she countered, her chest losing its tightness a bit. She sighed. “I just don’t know how long I can keep this a secret…”

Freddie mulled on it a second. “I’ll talk to Roger about reigning it in, not teasing you quite so badly. And I promise I won’t do it anymore either…”

Joanna gave him a challenging look.

“Well,” Freddie said, shrugging. “Not in mixed company at least.”

“What, like a plane full of production and crew?” she added, finally chuckling.

“Exactly,” Freddie said, and opened the door. “Take a minute to sort yourself out, and get back out there. It’s your turn, I’m sure of it…”

Joanna took Freddie’s advice, and got herself together before coming back out. She could feel the tension between her and Brian the second she sat down, but a stolen touch under the table reassured her. Brian’s hand tucked into Joanna’s crossed leg, and he lightly squeezed her thigh. It was a gesture that said so many things. And Joanna swallowed back any lingering anxiety surrounding the whole situation, and spelled out her next word.

* * *

With the stage erected, and the lighting almost finished, Joanna’s heart fluttered. In just twenty-four hours, she would be singing for Queen. Not opening—that honor was reserved for INXS for the first leg of the tour. But it was a song. The first she and Brian had worked on together. Lyrics by Joanna Beach, music by Brian May. While Freddie, John, and Roger took a five minute break, Joanna and Brian would come out and duet for one song. 

She licked her lips, and crossed her arms protectively over her chest. She didn’t know if she was ready. Ready or not, she would be performing tomorrow.

It was her father’s voice that brought her out of her reverie.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his hands in his trouser pockets.

Joanna sighed, and chewed her lip a moment. “No, but does it matter?” she asked. Their contact had been icy the past few weeks. Joanna’s attempts to keep things with Brian a secret had distanced her from her father, despite her being at rehearsals the past few weeks.

“No, I don’t suppose it does,” he said, and hiked up his trousers before sitting on the bleachers. Joanna watched mesmerized as Jim Beach sat, in his expensive suit, on the cold, aluminum seating. He had always been so formal with her, ever since she could remember.

Joanna sat next to him, and rested her forearms on her knees.

They shared a loaded silence.

“Do you know what you’re doing, Jo?” he asked. Joanna’s stomach filled with ice.

“Dad, we’ve had this discussion before, I want to be a musician—”

“ _Do you know what you’re doing_?” Jim intoned, looking over at Joanna.

Joanna said nothing. She swallowed. What could she say? Was he even referring to Brian?

“He’s thirty-eight,” he said. Joanna’s face went beet red, and she looked at her shoes. Jim went on. “You’re trying to do a good job of hiding it, the both of you, but I see it.”

Joanna took a shuddering breath, and tried to keep her composure.

“He’s married. Divorcing, but married, and has children. You’re young, smart, talented, beautiful, and you don’t have the baggage he does.”

Joanna shed twin tears, and looked up at her father. They were sharing an honest moment—one of only a few she could count on one hand—and she’d been found out. There was no point in denying it to him.

“I love him, dad,” she whispered. She then lost her composure, and put her face in her hands.

He put his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her in. “I know.” He rubbed her back a moment before continuing. “I had to ask. I had to know if all of those things mattered to you. I love Brian, but you’re my daughter, and if your happiness is most important to me.”

“You’re… you’re not going to quit being their manager, just because I’m with Brian?” Joanna asked, wiping the tears from her face.

Jim flexed his jaw a moment, and looked down at his expensive shoes. He was eating crow just to say this. “No. But if he hurts you, I’m out.”

“Thank you, dad,” Joanna said breathily, and put her arms around Jim Beach.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Jim said, and pulled away from Joanna to look her in the eyes. “Chrissie hasn’t found out about you and Brian yet.”

Joanna blanched, but said nothing.

“I’m happy to see you happy,” Jim said. “That’s all I want,” he said, and kissed the top of her head before leaving Joanna alone on the bleachers.


End file.
